THE  WINNING  °f 
BARBARA  WORTH 


HAROLD 
BELL  WRIGHT 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 


Books  by  HAROLD  BELL  WRIGHT 


Philadelphia  Sunday  Dispatch — "The  secret  of 
his  power  is  the  same  God-given  secret  that 
inspired  Shakespeare  and  upheld  Dickens." 

Oregon  Journal,  Portland — "it  is  this  almost 
clairvoyant  power  of  reading  the  human  soul 
that  has  made  Mr.  Wright's  books  among  the 
most  remarkable  works  of  the  present  age." 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  Ministry  of  Capital 

THE  CALLING  OF  DAN   MATTHEWS 

The  Ministry  of  Daily  Life 

THE    SHEPHERD    OF    THE    HILLS 

An  Inspiration  to  the  Simple  Life 

THAT    PRINTER    OF    UDELL'S 

A  Story  of  Practical  Christianity 

THE     UNCROWNED     KING 

An  Allegory  of  Life 


Often  as  Barbara  sat  looking  over  that  great  basin  her  heart  cried  out  to  know 
the  secret  it  held 


THE  WINNING  OF 
BARBARA  WORTH 


BY 

HAROLD    BELL   W RIGHT 

AUTHOR   OF 

"THE  CALLING  OF  DAN  MATTHEWS" 

"THE  SHEPHERD   OF  THE  HILLS" 

"THAT  PRINTER  OF  UDELL'S" 


With  Illustrations  by 
F.    GRAHAM    COOTES 


THE   BOOK   SUPPLY   COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS,    CHICAGO 


COPYRIGHT.  1911. 
BY  HAROLD  BBLL  WRIGHT 


COPYRIGHT.  1911. 
BY  ELSBERY  W.  REYNOLDS 


PUBLISHED.  AUGUST.  1911 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


ft/ 


vv 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

While  this  story  is  not  in  any  way  a  history  ot  this 
part  of  the  Colorado  Desert  now  known  as  the  Imperial 
Valley,  nor  a  biography  of  anyone  connected  with  this 
splendid  achievement,  I  must  in  honesty  admit  that  this 
work  which  in  the  past  ten  years  has  transformed  a  vast, 
desolate  waste  into  a  beautiful  land  of  homes,  cities,  and 
farms,  has  been  my  inspiration. 

With  much  gratitude  for  their  many  helpful  kind 
nesses,  I  acknowledge  my  indebtedness  to  H.  T.  Cory,  F.  C. 
Hermann,  C.  R.  Rockwood,  C.  N.  Perry,  E.  H.  Gaines,  Roy 
Kinkaid  and  the  late  George  Sexsmith,  engineers  and 
surveyors  identified  with  this  reclamation  work;  to  W.  K. 
Bowker,  Sidney  McHarg,  C.  E.  Paris,  and  many  other 
business  friends  and  neighboring  ranchers  among  our 
pioneers;  and  to  William  Mulholland,  Chief  Engineer  of 
the  Los  Angeles  Aqueduct. 

I  am  particularly  indebted  to  C.  K.  Clarke,  Assistant 
Manager  and  Chief  Engineer  of  the  California  Development 
Company,  and  to  Allen  Kelly,  whose  knowledge,  insight 
and  observations  as  a  journalist  and  as  a  student  of 
Reclamation  in  the  Far  West  have  been  invaluable  to  me. 

To  my  friend,  Mr.  W.  F.  Holt,  in  appreciation  of  his 
life  and  of  his  work  in  the  Imperial  Valley,  this  story  is 
inscribed.  H.  B.  W. 

Tecolote  Rancho,  April  25.  1911. 


250601 


"Gi<ve  fools  their  gold,  and  knaves  their  power  i 

Let  fortune*  s  bub  hies  rise  and  fall 'j 
Who  sofws  a  field)  or  trains  a  JJofwert 
Or  plants  a  treet  is  more  than  all.  * ' 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  INTO  THE  INFINITE  LONG  AGO.  ,  11 

II.  JEFFERSON  WORTH'S  OFFERING.  30 

III.  Miss  BARBARA  WORTH 53 

IV.  YOU'D  BETTER  MAKE  IT  NINETY.  62 
V.  WHAT    THE    INDIAN    TOLD    THE 

SEER 83 

VI.     THE  STANDARD  OF  THE  WEST.  .  .    101 
VII.     DON'T   You   LIKE   MY   DESERT, 

MR.  HOLMES  ? 116 

VIII.     WHY  WILLARD  HOLMES  STAYED.    137 
IX.     THE  MASTER  PASSION  —  "Gooo 

BUSINESS" 150 

X.     BARBARA'S  LOVE  FOR  THE  SEER.    168 

XI.     ABE  LEE  RESIGNS 178 

XII.     SIGNS  OF  CONFLICT 194 

XIII.  BARBARA'S  CALL  TO  HER  FRIENDS  205 

XIV.  MUCH    CONFUSION    AND    HAPPY 

EXCITEMENT 217 

XV.     BARBARA  COMES  INTO  HER  OWN.  233 
XVI.     JEFFERSON  WORTH'S  OPERATIONS  248 
XVII.     JAMES    GREENFIELD    SEEKS    AN 

ADVANTAGE 263 

XVIII.     THE  GAME  PROGRESSES 274 

XIX.     GATHERED  AT  BARBARA'S  COURT.    283 
XX.     WHAT  THE  STAKES  REVEALED.  .    292 


Winning  of  Barbara  Worth 

CHAPTEK  I. 
INTO  THE  INFINITE  LONG  AGO. 

IEFFERSON  WORTH'S  outfit  of  four  mules 
and  a  big  wagon  pulled  out  of  San  Felipe 
at  daybreak,  headed  for  Rubio  City. 
From  the  swinging  red  tassels  on  the  bridles  of  the 
leaders  to  the  galvanized  iron  water  bucket  dangling 
from  the  tail  of  the  reach  T  ack  of  the  rear  axle  the 
outfit  wore  an  unmistakabl  air  of  prosperity. 

The  wagon  was  loaded  >nly  with  a  well-stocked 
"grub-box,"  the  few  necess  .  :y  camp  cooking  utensils, 
blankets  and  canvas  tarp  ulin,  with  rolled  barley 
and  bales  of  hay  for  the  tc  m,  and  two  water  barrels 
— empty.  Hanging  by  i  canvas  strap  from  the 
spring  of  the  driver's  seat  vas  a  large,  cloth-covered 
canteen.  Behind  the  drive  +here  was  another  seat  of 
the  same  wide,  comfortable  type,  but  the  man  who 
held  the  reins  was  apparently  alone.  Jefferson 
Worth  was  not  with  his  outfit. 

By  sending  the  heavy  wagon  on  ahead  and  follow 
ing  later  with  a  faster  team  and  a  light  buckboard, 

11 


^- THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

X     ''':/: 

Mr.  Worth  could  join  his  outfit  in  camp  that  night, 

saving  thus  at  least  another  half  day  for  business  in 
San  Felipe.  Jefferson  Worth,  as  he  himself  would 
have  put  it,  "figured  on  the  value  of  time."  Indeed 
Jefferson  Worth  figured  on  the  value  of  nearly  every 
thing. 

Now  San  Felipe,  you  must  know,  is  where  the  big 
ships  come  in  and  the  air  tingles  with  the  electricity 
of  commerce  as  men  from  all  lands,  driven  by  the 
master  passion  of  human  kind — Good  Business — 
seek  each  his  own. 

But  Rubio  City,  though  born  of  that  same  master 
passion  of  the  race,  is  where  the  thin  edge  of  civil 
ization  is  thinnest,  on  the  Colorado  River,  miles 
beyond  the  Coast  Range  Mountains,  on  the  farther 
side  of  that  dreadful  land  where  the  thirsty  atmos 
phere  is  charged  with  the  awful  silence  of  uncounted 


Between  these  two  scenes  of  man?s  activity,  so 
different  and  yet  so  like,  and  crossing  thus  the  land 
of  my  story,  there  was  only  a  rude  trail — two  hun 
dred  and  more  hard  and  lonely  miles  of  it — the  only 
mark  of  man  in  all  that  desolate  waste  and  itself 
marked  every  mile  by  the  graves  of  men  and  by  the 
bleached  bones  of  their  cattle. 

All  that  forenoon,  on  every  side  of  the  outfit,  the 
beautiful  life  of  the  coast  country  throbbed  and 
exulted.  It  called  from  the  heaving  ocean  with  its 
many  gleaming  sails  and  dark  drifting  steamer  smoke 
under  the  wide  sky;  it  sang  from  the  harbor  where 
the  laden  ships  meet  the  long  trains  that  come  and  go 
on  their  continental  errands ;  it  cried  loudly  from  the 

12 


THE  WIPING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

busy  streets  of  village  and  town  and  laughed  out 
from  field  and  orchard.  But  always  the  road  led 
toward  those  mountains  that  lifted  their  oak-clad 
shoulders  and  pine-fringed  ridges  across  the  way  as 
though  in  dark  and  solemn  warning  to  any  who 
should  dare  set  their  faces  toward  the  dreadful  land 
of  want  and  death  that  lay  on  their  other  side. 

In  the  afternoon  every  mile  brought  scenes  more 
lonely  until,  in  the  foothills,  that  creeping  bit  of 
life  on  the  hard  old  trail  was  forgotten  by  the  busy 
world  behind,  even  as  it  seemed  to  forget  that  there 
was  anywhere  any  life  other  than  its  creeping  self. 

As  the  sweating  mules  pulled  strongly  up  the 
heavy  grades  the  man  on  the  high  seat  of  the  wagon 
repaid  the  indifference  of  his  surroundings  with  a  like 
indifference.  Unmoved  by  the  forbidding  grimness 
of  the  mountains,  unthoughtf  ul  of  their  solemn  warn 
ing,  he  took  his  place  as  much  a  part  of  the  lonely 
scene  as  the  hills  themselves.  Slouching  easily  in  his 
seat  he  gave  heed  only  to  his  team  and  to  the  road 
ahead.  When  he  spoke  to  the  mules  his  voice  was  a 
soft,  good-natured  drawl,  as  though  he  spoke  from  out 
a  pleasing  reverie,  and  though  his  words  were  often 
hard  words  they  were  carried  to  the  animals  on  an 
under-current  of  fellowship  and  understanding. 
The  long  whip,  with  coiled  lash,  was  in  its  socket  at 
the  end  of  the  seat.  The  stops  were  frequent.  Wise 
in  the  wisdom  of  the  unfenced  country  and  knowing 
the  land  ahead,  this  driver  would  conserve  every 
ounce  of  his  team's  strength  against  a  possible  time  of 
great  need. 

They  were  creeping  across  a  flank  of  the  hill  when 

13 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

the  off-leader  sprang  to  the  left  so  violently  that 
nothing  but  the  instinctive  bracing  of  his  trace-mate 
held  them  from  going  over  the  grade.  The  same 
instant  the  wheel  team  repeated  the  maneuver,  but 
not  so  quickly,  as  the  slouching  figure  on  the  seat 
sprang  into  action.  A  quick  strong  pull  on  the 
reins,  a  sharp  yell:  "You,  Buck!  Molly!"  and  a 
Battling  volley  of  strong  talk  swung  the  four  back 
into  the  narrow  road  before  the  front  wheels  were  out 
of  the  track. 

With  a  crash  the  heavy  brake  was  set.  The  team 
stopped.  As  the  driver  half  rose  and  turned  to  look 
back  he  slipped  the  reins  to  his  left  hand  and  his 
right  dropped  to  his  hip.  With  a  motion  too  quick 
for  the  eye  to  follow  the  free  arm  straightened  and 
the  mountain  echoed  wildly  to  the  loud  report  of  a 
forty-five.  By  the  side  of  the  road  in  the  rear  of  the 
wagon  a  rattlesnake  uncoiled  its  length  and  writhed 
slowly  in  the  dust. 

Before  the  echoes  of  the  shot  had  died  away  a  mad, 
inarticulate  roar  came  from  the  depths  of  the  wagon 
box.  The  roar  was  followed  by  a  thick  stream  of 
oaths  in  an  unmistakably  Irish  voice.  The  driver, 
who  was  slipping  a  fresh  cartridge  into  the  cylinder, 
looked  up  to  see  a  man  grasping  the  back  of  the  rear 
seat  for  support  while  rising  unsteadily  to  his  feet. 

The  Irishman,  as  he  stood  glaring  fiercely  at  the 
man  who  had  so  rudely  awakened  him,  was  without 
hat  or  coat,  and  with  bits  of  hay  clinging  to  a  soiled 
shirt  that  was  unbuttoned  at  the  hairy  throat,  pre 
sented  a  remarkable  figure.  His  heavy  body  was 
fitted  with  legs  like  posts;  his  wide  shoulders  and 

14 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

deep  chest,  with  arms  to  match  his  legs,  were  so 
huge  as  to  appear  almost  grotesque ;  his  round  head, 
with  its  tumbled  thatch  of  sandy  hair,  was  set  on  a 
thick  bull-neck;  while  all  over  the  big  bones  of  him 
the  hard  muscles  lay  in  visible  knots  and  bunches. 
The  unsteady  poise,  the  red,  unshaven,  sweating 
face,  and  the  angry,  blood-shot  eyes,  revealed  the 
reason  for  his  sleep  under  such  uncomfortable  cir 
cumstances.  The  silent  driver  gazed  at  his  fearsome 
passenger  with  calm  eyes  that  seemed  to  hold  in  their 
dark  depths  the  mystery  of  many  a  still  night  under 
the  still  stars. 

In  a  voice  that  rumbled  up  from  his  hairy  chest — 
a  husky,  menacing  growl — the  Irishman  demanded: 
''Fwhat  the  hell  do  ye  mane,  dishturbin'  the  peace 
wid  yer  clamor  ?  For  less  than  a  sup  av  wather  I'd 
go  over  to  ye  wid  me  two  hands." 

Calmly  the  other  dropped  his  gun  into  its  holster. 
Pointing  to  the  canteen  that  hung  over  the  side  of 
the  wagon  fastened  by  its  canvas  strap  to  the  seat 
spring,  he  drawled  softly:  "There's  the  water.  Help 
yourself,  stranger.'' 

The  gladiator,  without  a  word,  reached  for  the 
canteen  and  with  huge,  hairy  paws  lifted  it  to  his 
lips.  After  a  draught  of  prodigious  length  he  heaved 
a  long  sigh  and  wiped  his  mouth  with  the  back  of  his 
hand.  Then  he  turned  his  fierce  eyes  again  on  the 
driver  as  if  to  inquire  what  manner  of  person  he 
might  be  who  had  so  unceremoniously  challenged  his 
threat. 

The  Irishman  saw  a  man,  tall  and  spare,  but  of  a 
stringy,  tough  and  supple  leanness  that  gave  him  the 

15 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

look  of  being  fashioned  by  the  out-of-doors.  He, 
too,  was  coatless  but  wore  a  vest  unbuttoned  over  a 
loose,  coarse  shirt.  A  red  bandana  was  knotted  easily 
about  his  throat.  With  his  wide,  high-crowned  hat, 
rough  trousers  tucked  in  long  boots,  laced-leather 
wrist  guards  and  the  loosely  buckled  cartridge  belt 
with  its  long  forty-five,  his  very  dress  expressed  the 
easy  freedom  of  the  wild  lands,  while  the  dark,  thin 
face,  accented  by  jet  black  hair  and  a  long,  straight 
mustache,  had  the  look  of  the  wide,  sun-burned 
plains. 

With  a  grunt  that  might  have  expressed  either 
approval  or  contempt,  the  Irishman  turned  and  grop 
ing  abcmt  in  the  wagon  found  a  sorry  wreck  of  a  hat. 
Again  he  stooped  and  this  time,  from  between  the 
bales  of  hay,  lifted  a  coat,  fit  companion  to  the  hat. 
Carefully  he  felt  through  pocket  after  pocket.  His 
search  was  rewarded  by  a  short-stemmed  clay  pipe 
and  the  half  of  a  match — nothing  more.  With  an 
effort  he  explored  the  pockets  of  his  trousers.  Then 
again  he  searched  the  coat;  muttering  to  himself 
broken  sentences,  not  the  less  expressive  because  in 
complete:  "Where  the  divil Now  don't  that 

bate Well,  I'll  be "     With  a  temper  not 

improved  by  his  loss  he  threw  down  the  garment  in 
disgust  and  looked  up  angrily.  The  silent  driver  was 
holding  toward  him  a  sack  of  tobacco. 

The  Irishman,  with  another  grunt,  crawled  under 
the  empty  seat  and  climbing  heavily  over  the  back  of 
the  seat  in  front,  planted  himself  stolidly  by  the 
driver's  side.  Filling  his  pipe  with  care  and  delib 
eration  he  returned  the  sack  to  its  owner  and  struck 

16 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

the  half-match  along  one  po  t-like  leg.  Shielding 
the  tiny  flame  with  his  hands  before  applying  the 
light  he  remarked  thoughtfully:  "Ye  are  a  danged 
reckless  fool  to  be  so  dishturbin'  me  honest  slape  by 
explodin'  that  cannon  ye  carry.  'Tis  on  me  mind  to 
discipline  ye  for  sich  outrageous  conduct."  The 
last  word  was  followed  by  loud,  smacking  puffs,  as 
he  started  the  fire  in  the  pipe-bowl  under  his  nose. 

While  the  Irishman  was  again  uttering  his  threat, 
the  driver,  with  a  skillful  twist,  rolled  a  cigarette 
and,  leaning  forward  just  in  the  nick  of  time,  he 
deliberately  shared  the  half-match  with  his  blustering 
companion.  In  that  instant  the  blue  eyes  above  the 
pipe  looked  straight  into  the  black  eyes  above  the 
cigarette,  and  a  faint  twinkle  of  approval  met  a 
serious  glance  of  understanding. 

Gathering  up  his  reins  and  sorting  them  carefully, 
the  driver  spoke  to  his  team :  "You,  Buck !  Molly ! 
Jack !  Pete !"  The  mules  heaved  ahead.  Again  the 
silence  of  the  world-old  hills  was  shattered  by  the 
rattling  rumble  of  the  heavy-tired  wagon  and  the 
ring  and  clatter  of  iron-shod  hoofs. 

Stolidly  the  Irishman  pulled  at  the  short-stemmed 
pipe,  the  wagon  seat  sagging  heavily  with  his  weight 
at  every  jolt  of  the  wheels,  while  from  under  his 
tattered  hat  rim  his  fierce  eyes  looked  out  upon  the 
wild  landscape  with  occasional  side  glances  at  his 
silent,  indifferent  companion. 

Again  the  team  was  halted  for  a  rest  on  the  heavy 
grade.  Long  and  carefully  the  Irishman  looked 
about  him  and  then,  turning  suddenly  upon  the  still 
silent  driver,  he  gazed  at  him  for  a  full  mimite 

IT 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

before  saying,  with  el  Jborate  mock  formality:  "It 
may  be,  Sorr,  that  bein'  ye  are  sich  a  hell  av  a  con 
versationalist,  ut  wouldn't  tax  yer  vocal  powers 
bey  and  their  shtrength.av  I  should  be  so  baould  as  to 
ax  ye  fwhat  the  divil  place  is  this  ?" 

The  soft,  slow  drawl  of  the  other  answered : 
"Sure.  That  there  is  No  Man's  Mountains  ahead. " 

"No  Man's,  is  ut;  an'  ut  looks  that  same.  Where 
did  ye  say  ye  was  thryin'  to  go  ?" 

"We're  headed  for  Rubio  City.  This  here  is  the 
old  San  Felipe  trail." 

"Uh-huh !  So  we're  goin'  to  Rubio  City,  are  we  ? 
For  all  I  know  that  may  as  well  be  nowhere  at  all. 
Well,  well,  ut's  news  av  intherest  to  me.  We  are 
goin'  to  Rubio  City.  Ut  may  be  that  ye  would  ex- 
shplain,  Sorr,  how  I  come  to  be  here  at  all." 

"Sure  Mike!  You  come  in  this  here  wagon  from 
San  Felipe." 

At  the  drawling  answer  the  hot  blood  flamed  in  the 
face  of  the  short-tempered  Irishman  and  the  veins 
in  his  thick  neck  stood  out  as  if  they  would  burst. 
"Me  name's  not  Mike  at  all,  but  Patrick  Mooney !"  he 
roared.  "I've  two  good  eyes  in  me  head  that  can  see 
yer  danged  old  wagon  for  meself,  an'  fwhat's  more 
I've  two  good  hands  that  can  break  ye  in  bits  for  the 
impedent  dried  herrin'  that  ye  are,  a-thinkin'  ye  can 
take  me  anywhere  at  all  be  abductin'  me  widout  me 

consent.  For  a  sup  o'  wather  I'd  go  to  ye "  He 

turned  quickly  to  look  behind  him  for  the  driver  was 
calmly  pointing  toward  the  end  of  the  seat.  "Fwhat 
is  ut  ?  Fwhat's  there  ?"  he  demanded. 


18 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"The  water/'  drawled  the  dark-faced  man.  "I 
don't  reckon  you  drunk  it  all  the  other  time." 

Again  the  big  man  lifted  the  canteen  and  drank 
long  and  deep.  When  he  had  wiped  his  mouth  with 
the  back  of  his  hairy  hand  and  had  returned  the 
canteen  to  its  place,  he  faced  his  companion — his 
blue  eyes  twinkling  with  positive  approval.  Scratch 
ing  his  head  meditatively,  he  said :  "An'  all  because 
av  me  wantin'  to  enjoy  the  blessin's  an'  advantages 
av  civilization  agin  afther  three  long  months  in  that 
danged  gradin'  camp,  as  is  the  right  av  ivery  healthy 
man  wid  his  pay  in  his  pocket." 

The  teamster  laughed  softly.  "You  was  sure 
enjoyin'  of  it  a-plenty." 

The  other  looked  at  him  with  quickened  interesi. 
"Ye  was  there?"  he  asked. 

"Some,"  was  the  laconic  reply. 

The  Irishman  scratched  his  head  again  with  a 
puzzled  air.  "I  disremimber  entire.  Was  there 
some  throuble  maybe  ?" 

The  other  grinned.     "Things  was  movin'  a  few." 

Patrick  Mooney  nodded  his  head.  "Uh-huh : 
mostly  they  do  under  thim  circumstances.  Av  course 
there'd  be  a  policeman,  or  maybe  two  ?" 

"Five,"  said  the  man  with  the  lines,  gently. 

"Five !  Howly  Mither !  I  did  mesilf  proud.  An' 
did  they  have  the  wagon  ?  Sure  they  wild — five 
policemen  niver  walked.  Wan  av  thim  might,  av  lit 
was  handy-like,  but  five — niver !  Tell  me,  man,  who 
else  was  at  the  party?  !N"o — howld  on  a  minut!" 
He  interrupted  himself,  "Thim  cops  stimulate  me 


19 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

mimory  a  bit.  Was  there  not  a  bunch  av  sailor-men 
from  wan  av  thim  big  ships  ?" 

The  driver  nodded. 

The  other,  pleased  with  the  success  of  his  mental 
effort,  continued:  "Uh-huh — an'  I  was  havin'  a 
peaceful  dhrink  wid  thim  all  whin  somewan  made 
impedent  remarks  touchin'  me  appearance,  or  ances 
tors,  I  disremimber  which.  But  where  was  you?" 

"Well,  you  see,"  explained  the  driver  in  his  slow 
way,  "hit  was  like  this.  That  there  saloon  were 
plumb  full  of  sailor-men  all  exceptin'  you  an'  me.  I 
was  a  heap  admirin'  of  the  way  you  handled  that  big 
hombre  what  opened  the  meetin'  and  also  his  two 
pardners,  who  aimed  to  back  his  play.  Hit  was  sure 
pretty  work.  The  rest  of  the  crowd  sort  o'  bunched 
in  one  end  of  the  room  an'  when  you  began  addressin' 
the  congregation,  so  to  speak,  on  the  habits,  character, 
customs  and  breedin'  of  sailor-men  in  general  an'  the 
present  company  in  particular,  I  see  right  there  that 
you  was  a-bitin'  off  more  'n  you  could  chaw.  It 
wasn't  no  way  reasonable  that  any  human  could  han 
dle  that  whole  outfit  with  only  just  his  bare  hands, 
so  I  edged  over  your  way,  plumb  edified  by  your 
remarks,  and  when  the  rush  for  the  mourners'  bench 
come  I  unlimbered  an'  headed  the  stampede  pronto. 
Then  I  made  my  little  proposition.  I  told  'em  that, 
bein'  the  only  individual  on  the  premises  not  a  sailor- 
man  nor  an  Irishman,  I  felt  it  my  duty  to  referee  the 
obsequies,  so  to  speak,  and  that  odds  of  twenty  to  one, 
not  to  mention  knives,  was  strictly  agin  my  con 
victions.  Moreover,  bein'  the  sole  an'  only  uninter 
ested  audience,  I  had  rights.  Then  I  offers  to  bet 

20 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

my  pile,  even  money,  that  you  could  handle  the  whole 
bunch,  takin'  'em  two  at  a  throw.  I  knowed  it  were 
some  odds,  but  I  noticed  that  them  three  what  opened 
the  meetin'  was  still  under  the  influence.  Also  I 
undertook  to  see  that  specifications  was  faithfully 
fulfilled." 

"Mither  av  Gawd,  fwhat  a  sociable !"  broke  in  the 
Irishman.  "An7  me  too  dhrunk  to  remimber  rightly ! 
Did  they  take  yer  bet  ?  Ye  sun-burned  limb  av  the 
divil — did  they  take  ut  ?" 

"They  sure  did,"  drawled  the  driver.  "I  had  my 
gun  on  them  all  the  time." 

"Hurroo !  An'  did  I  do  ut  ?  Tell  me  quick— did 
I  do  ut  ?  Sure  I  could  aisy  av  nothin'  happened." 

"You  laid  your  first  pair  on  top  of  the  three, 
then  the  police  called  the  game  and  the  bets  were 
off." 

"They  pinched  the  house  ?" 

"They  took  you  an'  me." 

"Sure!  av  course  they  would  take  us  two.  'Tis 
thim  San  Felipe  police  knows  their  duty.  But  how 
could  they  do  ut?" 

"I  forget  details  right  here,  bein'  temporarily  in 
capacitated  by  one  o'  them  hittin'  me  with  a  club 
from  behind.  I  woke  up  in  a  cell  with  you." 

The  Irishman  rubbed  the  back  of  his  head.  "Come 
to  think  av  ut,  I  have  a  bit  av  a  bump  on  me  own 
noodle  that  'tis  like  helps  to  exshplain  the  cell.  But 
fwhat  in  the  divil's  name  brung  us  here  in  this  Gawd- 
forsaken  Nobody's  Place  ?  Pass  me  another  pipeful 
an'  tell  me  that  av  ye  can." 

The  driver  passed  over  the  tobacco  sack  and,  stop- 

21 


THE  TOQOmra  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

ping  his  team  for  another  rest,  rolled  a  cigarette  for 
himself.  "That's  easy,"  he  said.  "This  here  is 
Jefferson  Worth's  outfit.  He  wanted  me  to  start 
home  this  morning,  so  he  got  me  off.  I  don't  know 
how  he  done  it ;  mostly  nobody  knows  how  Jefferson 
Worth  does  things.  There  was  a  man  with  him  who 
knowed  you  and,  as  I  was  some  disinclined  to  leave 
you  under  the  circumstances,  Mr.  Worth  fixed  it  up 
for  you,  too,  then  we  all  jest  throwed  you  in  and 
fetched  you  along.  Mr.  Worth  with  the  other  man 
and  his  kid  are  comin'  on  in  a  buckboard.  They'll 
catch  up  with  us  where  we  camp  to-night.  I  don't 
mind  sayin'  that  I  plumb  admired  your  spirit  and 
action  and — sizin'  up  that  police  bunch — I  could  see 
your  talents  would  sure  be  wasted  in  that  San  Felipe 
country  for  some  time  to  come.  There'll  be  plenty  of 
room  in  Eubio  City  for  you,  leastwise  'till  you  draw 
your  pay  again.  If  you  don't  like  the  accommoda 
tions  you're  gettin'  I  reckon  you'd  better  make  good 
your  talk  back  there  and  we'll  see  whether  you  takes 
this  outfit  back  to  San  Felipe  or  I  takes  her  on  to 
Eubio  City." 

The  Irishman  spat  emphatically  over  the  wheel. 
"An'  'tis  a  gintleman  wid  proper  instincts  ye  are, 
though,  as  a  rule,  I  howld  ut  impolite  to  carry  a 
gun.  But  afther  all,  'tis  a  matter  av  opinion  an'  I'm 
free  to  admit  that  there  are  occasions.  Anyhow  ye 
handle  ut  wid  grace  an'  intilligence.  An',  fists  er 
shticks,  er  knives,  er  guns,  that's  the  thing  that  marks 
the  man.  'Tis  not  Patrick  Mooney  that'll  fault  a 
gintleman  for  ways  that  he  can't  help  owin'  to  his 
improper  bringin'  up.  Av  ye  don't  mind,  will  ye  tell 

22 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAEA  WORTH 

me  fwhat  they  call  ye  ?    I'll  not  be  so  indelicate  as  to 
ax  yer  name.    Fwhat  they  call  ye  will  be  enough." 

The  other  laughed.  "My  name  is  Joe  Brannin. 
They  call  me  Texas  Joe — Tex,  for  short." 

"Good  bhoy,  Tex !  Ye  look  the  divil  av  a  lot  like 
a  red  herring  but  that's  not  sich  a  bad  fish,  an'  ye 
have  the  right  flavor.  How  could  ye  help  ut  ?  Bran- 
iiin  an7  Texas  is  handles  to  pull  a  man  through  hell 
wid.  But  tell  me  this — who  is  this  man  that  says 
he  knows  me  ?" 

Texas  Joe  shook  his  head  and,  picking  out  his 
lines,  called  to  his  team.  When  they  were  under 
way  again  he  said:  "I  didn't  hear  his  name  but  I 
judge  from  the  talk  that  he  is  one  o'  them  there  civil 
engineers,  an'  that  he's  headin'  for  Eubio  City  to 
build  the  railroad  that's  goin'  through  to  the  coast. 
Mr.  Worth  told  me  that  there  would  be  another  man 
and  a  kid  to  go  back  with  us,  but  I  know  that  Mr. 
Worth  hadn't  never  seen  them  before  himself." 

Pat  shifted  his  heavy  bulk  to  face  the  driver  and, 
removing  his  pipe  from  his  mouth,  asked  with  delib 
eration:  "An'  do  ye  mane  to  tell  me  that  this  place 
we're  goin'  to  is  on  the  new  line  av  the  Southwestern 
an'  Continental?" 

"Sure.  They're  buildin'  into  Eubio  City  from  the 
East  now." 

The  Irishman  became  excited.  "An'  this  man  that 
knows  me — this  engineer — is  he  a  fine,  big,  up- 
standin'  man  wid  brown  eyes  an'  the  look  av  a  king  ?" 

"I  ain't  never  seen  no  kings,"  drawled  Tex,  "but 
the  rest  of  it  sure  fits  him." 

"Well,  fwhat  do  ye  think  av  that  ?    'Tis  the  Seer 

23 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

himsilf,  or  I'm  not  the  son  av  me  own  mither.  I  was 
hearin'  in  Frisco,  where  I  went  the  last  time  I 
drawed  me  pay,  that  he  was  like  to  be  on  the  S.  an' 
C.  extension.  'Twas  that  that  took  me  to  San  Felipe, 
bein'  wishful  to  get  a  job  wid  him  again.  Well,  well, 
an'  to  think  ut's  the  Seer  himsilf !" 

"What's  that  you  call  him?" 

"The  Seer.  I  disremimber  his  other  name  but  he's 
got  wan  all  shtraight  an'  proper.  He's  that  kind. 
They  call  him  the  Seer  because  av  his  talk  av  the 
great  things  that  will  be  doin'  in  this  country  av  no 
rain  at  all  whin  ignorant  savages  like  yersilf  learn 
how  to  use  the  wather  that's  in  the  rivers  for  irriga 
tion.  I've  heard  him  say  mesilf  that  hundreds  av 
thousands  av  acres  av  these  big  deserts  will  be  turned 
into  farms,  an'  all  that  be  what  he  calls  'Reclama 
tion.'  'Twas  for  that  some  danged  yellow-legged  sur 
veyor  give  him  the  name,  an'  ut  shtuck.  But  most 
av  the  engineers — the  rale  engineers  do  ye  mind — 
is  wid  him,  though  they  do  be  jokin'  him  the  divil  av 
a  lot  about  what  they  calls  his  visions." 

"He  didn't  look  like  he  was  locoed,"  said  Texas 
Joe  thoughtfully,  "but  he's  sure  some  off  on  that 
there  desert  proposition  as  you'll  see  before  we  lands 
in  Rubio." 

"I  dunno — I've  seen  some  quare  things  in  me  time 
in  the  way  av  big  jobs  that  nobody  thought  could  be 
done  at  all.  But  lave  ut  go.  'Tis  not  the  likes  av 
me  an'  you  that's  qualified  to  give  judgment  on  sich 
janiuses  as  the  Seer,  who,  I  heard  tell,  has  the  right 
to  put  more  big-manin'  letters  afther  his  name  than 
ye  have  teeth  in  yer  head." 

24 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WOKTH 

"All  the  same  it  ain't  the  brand  on  a  horse  that 
makes  him  travel.  A  man'll  sure  need  somethin' 
more  hefty  than  letters  after  his  name  when  he  goes 
up  against  the  desert." 

"Well,  lave  ut  go  at  that.  Wait  'til  ye  know  him. 
But  fwhat's  this  yer  tellin'  me  about  a  kid  ?  The  Seer 
has  no  family  at  all  but  himsilf  an'  his  job." 

Texas  grinned.  "Maybe  not,  pard;  but  he's  sure 
got  together  part  of  a  family  this  trip." 

"Is  ut  a  gurl,  or  a  bhoy  ?" 

"Boy — 'bout  a  ten-year-old,  I'd  say." 

The  Irishman  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  "I 
dunno.  'Tis  a  quare  thing  for  the  Seer.  Av  it  was 
me,  or  you,  now — but  the  Seer !  It's  danged  quare ! 
But  tell  me,  f what's  this  man,  yer  boss  ?  'Tis  a  good 
healthy  pull  he  must  have  to  be  separatin'  us  from 
thim  San  Felipe  police." 

Texas  Joe  deliberated  so  long  before  answering 
this  that  Pat  glanced  at  him  uneasily  several  times. 
At  last  the  driver  drawled:  "You're  right  there; 
Jefferson  Worth  sure  has  some  pull." 

Pat  grunted.    "But  fwhat  does  he  do  ?" 

"Do  ?"  Tex  swung  his  team  around  a  spur  of  the 
mountain  where  the  trail  leads  along  the  side  of  a 
canyon  to  its  head.  Far  below  they  heard  the  tum 
bling  roar  of  a  stream  in  its  rocky  course. 

"Sure  the  man  must  do  something?" 

"As  near  as  I  can  make  out  Jefferson  Worth  does 
everybody." 

"Oh  ho !  So  that's  ut  ?  I've  no  care  for  the  cards 
mesilf,  but  av  a  man's  a  professional  an' — " 

"You're  off  there,  pardner.    Jefferson  Worth  ain't 

25 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

that  kind.  He's  one  o'  these  here  financierin'  sports, 
an7  so  far  as  anybody  that  I  ever  seen  goes,  he's  got  a 
dead  cinch." 

" Ye  mane  he's  a  banker  ?" 

"Sure.  The  Pioneer  in  Eubio  City.  He  started 
the  game  in  the  early  days  an'  he's  been  a-rollin'  it 
up  ever  since.  Hit's  plumb  curious  about  this  here 
financierin'  business/'  continued  Tex,  in  his  slow, 
meditative  way.  "Looks  to  me  mostly  jest  plain, 
common  hold-up,  only  they  do  it  with  money  'stead  of 
a  gun.  In  the  old  days  you  used  to  get  the  drop  on 
your  man  with  your  six,  all  regular,  an'  take  what 
he  happened  to  have  in  his  clothes.  Then  the  posse'd 
get  after  you  an'  mebbe  string  you  up,  which  was  all 
right,  bein'  part  of  the  game.  Now  these  fellows  like 
Jefferson  Worth,  they  get's  your  name  on  some 
writin's  an'  when  you  ain't  lookin?  they  slips  up  an' 
gets  away  with  all  your  worldly  possessions,  an'  the 
sheriff  he  jest  laughs  an'  says  hits  good  business. 
This  here  Worth  man  is  jest  about  the  coolest, 
smoothest,  hardest  proposition  in  the  game.  He  fair 
makes  my  back  hair  raise.  The  common  run  o' 
people  ain't  got  no  more  show  stackin'  up  agin  Jef 
ferson  Worth  than  two-bits  worth  o'  ice  has  in  hell. 
Accordin'  to  my  notion  hit's  this  here  same  finan 
cierin'  game  that's  a-ruinin'  the  West.  The  cattle 
range  is  about  all  gone  now.  If  they  keeps  it  up  we 
won't  be  no  better  out  here  than  some  o'  them  places 
I've  heard  about  back  East." 

"  'Tis  a  danged  ignorant  savage  ye  are,  like  the 
rest  av  yer  thribe,  wid  yer  talk  av  ruinin'  the  West. 
Fwhat  wud  this  counthry  be  without  money?  'Tis 

26 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

thim  same  financiers  that  have  brung  ye  the  rail 
roads,  an'  the  cities,  an7  the  schools,  an'  the  churches, 
an'  all  the  other  blessin's  an'  joys  of  civilization  that 
ye've  got  to  take  whither  ye  likes  ut  or  not.  Look  •-• 
at  the  Seer,  now.  Fwhat  could  a  man  like  him — an 
engineer,  mind  ye — fwhat  could  the  Seer  do  widout 
the  men  wid  money  to  back  him  ?" 

The  Irishman's  words  were  answered  by  a  cheerful 
"Whoa!"  and  a  crash  of  the  brakes  as  Texas  Joe 
brought  his  team  to  a  stand  near  the  spring  at  the 
head  of  the  canyon.  "We  camp  here,"  he  announced. 
"This  is  the  last  water  we  strike  until  we  make  it  over 
the  Pass  to  Mountain  Springs  on  the  desert  side. 
Jefferson  Worth  will  be  along  with  the  Seer  and  his 
kid  most  any  time  now." 

A  little  before  dusk  the  banker,  with  his  two  com 
panions,  arrived. 

"Hello,  Pat!"  The  man  who  leaped  from  the 
buckboard  and  strode  toward  the  waiting  Irishman 
was  tall  and  broad,  with  the  head  and  chin  of  a 
soldier,  and  the  brown  eyes  of  a  dreamer.  He  was 
dressed  in  rough  corduroys,  blue  flannel  shirt,  laced 
boots,  and  Stetson,  and  he  greeted  the  burly  Irishman 
as  a  fellow-laborer. 

A  joyful  grin  spread  over  the  battered  features 
of  the  gladiator  as  he  grasped  the  Seer's  outstretched 
hand.  "Well,  dang  me  but  ut's  glad  I  am  to  see  ye, 
Sorr,  in  this  divil's  own  land.  I  had  me  natural 
doubts,  av  course,  whin  I  woke  up  in  the  wagon,  but 
ut's  all  right.  'Tis  proud  I  am  to  be  abducted  by  ye, 
Sorr." 


27 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

"Abducted!"  The  engineer's  laugh  awoke  the 
echoes  in  the  canyon.  "It  was  a  rescue,  man !" 

"Well,  well,  let  ut  go  at  that!  But  tell  me, 
Sorr" — he  lowered  his  voice  to  a  confidential  rumble 
— "fwhat's  this  I  hear  that  ye  have  yer  bhoy  wid  ye  ? 
Sure  I  niver  knew  that  ye  was  a  man  av  family.'7 
He  looked  toward  the  slender  lad  who,  with  the  read 
iness  of  a  grown  man,  was  helping  the  driver  of  the 
buckboard  to  unhitch  his  team  of  four  broncos. 
"  'Tis  a  good  lad  he  is,  or  I'm  a  Dutchman." 

"You're  right,  Pat,  Abe  is  a  good  boy,"  the  Seer 
answered  gravely.  "I  picked  him  up  in  a  mining 
camp  on  the  edge  of  the  Mojave  Desert  when  I  was 
running  a  line  of  preliminary  surveys  through  that 
country  for  the  S.  and  C.  last  year.  He  was  born 
in  the  camp  and  his  mother  died  when  he  was  a  baby. 
God  knows  how  he  pulled  through !  You  know  what 
those  mining  places  are.  His  father,  Frank  Lee,  was 
killed  in  a  drunken  row  while  I  was  there,  and  Abe 
showed  so  much  cool  nerve  and  downright  manliness 
that  I  offered  him  a  place  with  my  party.  He  has 
been  with  me  ever  since." 

Pat's  voice  was  husky  as  he  said:  "I  ax  yer 
pardon,  Sorr,  for  me  blunderin'  impedence  about  yer 
bein'  a  man  av  family.  I'm  a  danged  old  rough-neck, 
wid  no  education  but  me  two  fists,  an'  no  manners  at 
all." 

The  engineer's  reply  was  prevented  by  the  ap 
proach  of  Jefferson  Worth  who  had  been  talking  with 
Texas  Joe.  The  banker's  head  came  but  little  above 
the  Seer's  shoulders  and  in  comparison  with  the 
Irishman's  heavy  bulk  he  appeared  almost  insignifi- 

28 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

cant,  while  his  plain  business  suit  of  gray  seemed 
altogether  out  of  place  in  the  wild  surroundings.  His 
smooth-shaven  face  was  an  expressionless  gray  mask 
and  his  deep-set  gray  eyes  turned  from  the  Irishman 
to  the  engineer  without  a  hint  of  emotion.  The  two 
men  felt  that  somewhere  behind  that  gray  mask  they 
were  being  carefully  estimated — measured — valued 
— as  possible  factors  in  some  far-reaching  plan.  He 
spoke  to  the  Seer,  and  his  voice  was  without  a  sug 
gestion  of  color :  "I  see  that  your  friend  has  recov 
ered."  It  was  as  though  he  stated  a  fact  that  he  had 
just  verified. 

Laughing  at  the  memory  of  the  Irishman's  San 
Felipe  experience,  the  engineer  said:  "Mr.  Worth, 
permit  me  to  introduce  Mr.  Patrick  Mooney  whom 
I  have  known  for  years  as  the  best  boss  of  a  grading 
gang  in  the  West.  Pat,  this  is  Mr.  Jefferson  Worth, 
president  of  the  Pioneer  Bank  in  Rubio  City." 

The  Irishman  clutched  at  his  tattered  hat-brim  in 
embarrassed  acknowledgment  of  the  Seer's  formality. 
Jefferson  Worth,  from  behind  his  gray  mask,  said  in 
his  exact,  colorless  voice:  "He  looks  as  though  he 
ought  to  handle  men." 

As  the  banker  passed  on  toward  the  big  wagon  the 
Irishman  drew  close  to  the  Seer  and  whispered 
hoarsely:  "Now  fwhat  the  hell  kind  av  a  man  is 
that?  'Tis  the  truth,  Sorr,  that  whin  he  looked  at 
me  out  av  that  grave-yard  face  I  could  bare  kape 
from  crossin'  mesilf !" 


CHAPTER  II. 
JEFFERSON  WORTH'S  OFFERING. 

HEIST  day  broke  over  the  topmost  ridges  of 
No  Man's  Mountains,  Jefferson  Worth's 
_ __  outfit  was  ready  to  move.  The  driver  of  the 
lighter  rig  with  its  four  broncos  set  out  for  San 
Felipe.  On  the  front  seat  of  the  big  wagon  Texas 
Joe  picked  up  his  reins,  sorted  them  carefully,  and 
glanced  over  his  shoulder  at  his  employer.  "All 
set?" 

"Go  ahead." 

"You,  Buck !  Molly !"  The  lead  mules  straight 
ened  their  traces.  "  Jack  !  Pete !"  As  the  brake  was 
released  with  a  clash  and  rattle  of  iron  rods,  the 
wheelers  threw  their  weight  into  their  collars  and 
the  wagon  moved  ahead. 

Grim,  tireless,  world-old  sentinels,  No  Man's 
Mountains  stood  guard  between  the  fertile  land  on 
their  seaward  side  and  the  desolate  forgotten  wastes 
of  the  East.  They  said  to  the  country  of  green  life, 
of  progress  and  growth  and  civilization,  that  marched 
to  their  line  on  the  West,  "Halt !"  and  it  stopped.  To 
the  land  of  lean  want,  of  gray  death,  of  gaunt  hunger, 
and  torturing  thirst,  that  crept  to  their  feet  on  the 
other  side,  "Stop !"  and  it  came  no  farther.  With  no 
land  to  till,  no  mineral  to  dig,  their  very  poverty 
was  their  protection.  With  an  air  of  grim  finality, 

30 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

they  declared  strongly  that  as  they  had  always  been 
they  would  always  remain ;  and,  at  the  beginning  of 
my  story,  save  for  that  one,  slender,  man-made  trail, 
their  hoary  boast  had  remained  unchallenged. 

Steadily,  but  with  frequent  rests  on  the  grades, 
Jefferson  Worth's  outfit  climbed  toward  the  summit 
and  a  little  before  noon  gained  the  Pass.  The  loud, 
rattling  rumble  of  the  wagon  as  the  tires  bumped 
and  ground  over  the  stony,  rock-floored  way,  with  the 
sharp  ring  and  clatter  of  the  iron-shod  hoofs  of  the 
team,  echoed,  echoed,  and  echoed  again.  Loudly, 
wildly,  the  rude  sounds  assaulted  the  stillness  until 
the  quiet  seemed  hopelessly  shattered  by  the  din. 
Softly,  tamely,  the  sounds  drifted  away  in  the  clear 
distance;  through  groves  of  live  oak,  thickets  of 
greasewood,  juniper,  manzanita  and  sage ;  into  canyon 
and  wash ;  from  bluff  and  ledge ;  along  slope  and  spur 
and  shoulder ;  over  ridge  and  saddle  and  peak ;  faint 
ing,  dying — the  impotent  sounds  of  man's  passing 
sank  into  the  stillness  and  were  lost.  When  the  team 
halted  for  a  brief  rest  it  was  in  a  moment  as  if  the 
silence  had  never  been  broken.  Grim,  awful,  the 
hills  gave  no  signs  of  man's  presence,  gave  that  creep 
ing  bit  of  life  no  heed. 

At  Mountain  Spring — a  lonely  little  pool  on  the 
desert  side  of  the  huge  wall — they  stopped  for  dinner. 
When  the  meal  was  over,  Texas  Joe,  with  the  assist 
ance  of  Pat,  filled  the  water  barrels,  while  the  boy 
busied  himself  with  the  canteen  and  the  Seer  and 
Jefferson  Worth  looked  on. 

"  'Tis    a    dhry    counthry    ahead,    I'm    thinkin'," 


31 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

remarked  the  Irishman  inquiringly  as  he  lifted  an 
other  dripping  bucket. 

"Some,"  returned  Tex.  "There  are  three  water 
holes  between  here  and  the  river  where  there's  water 
sometimes.  Mostly,  though,  when  you  need  it  worst, 
there  ain't  none  there,  an'  I  reckon  a  dry  water  hole 
is  about  the  most  discouragin'  proposition  there  is. 
They'll  all  be  dry  this  trip.  There  wasn't  nothin' 
but  mud  at  Wolf  Wells  when  we  come  through  last 
week."  * 

Again  the  barren  rocks  and  the  grim,  forbidding 
hills  echoed  the  loud  sound  of  wheel  and  hoof.  Down 
the  steep  flank  of  the  mountain,  with  screaming, 
grinding  brakes,  they  thundered  and  clattered  into 
the  narrow  hall-way  of  Devil's  Canyon  with  its  sheer 
walls  and  shadowy  gloom.  The  little  stream  that 
trickled  down  from  the  tiny  spot  of  green  at  the 
spring  tried  bravely  to  follow  but  soon  sank  ex 
hausted  into  the  dry  waste.  A  cool  wind,  like  a 
draft  through  a  tunnel,  was  in  their  faces.  After 
perhaps  two  hours  of  this  the  way  widened  out,  the 
sides  of  the  canyon  grew  lower  with  now  and  then 
gaps  and  breaks.  Then  the  walls  gave  way  to  low, 
rounded  hills,  through  which  the  winding  trail  lay — 
a  bed  of  sand  and  gravel — and  here  and  there  ap 
peared  clumps  of  greasewood  and  cacti  of  several 
varieties. 

At  length  they  passed  out  from  between  the  last  of 
the  foot-hills  and  suddenly — as  though  a  mighty  cur 
tain  were  lifted — they  faced  the  desert.  At  their 
feet  the  Mesa  lay  in  a  blaze  of  white  sunlight,  and 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

beyond  and  below  the  edge  of  the  bench  the  vast 
King's  Basin  country. 

At  the  edge  of  the  Mesa  Texas  halted  his  team  and 
the  little  party  looked  out  and  away  over  those  awful 
reaches  of  desolate  solitude.  The  Seer  and  Pat 
uttered  involuntary  exclamations.  Jefferson  Worth, 
Texas,  and  Abe  were  silent,  but  the  boy's  thin  fea 
tures  were  aglow  with  eager  enthusiasm,  and  the 
face  of  the  driver  revealed  an  interest  in  the  scene 
that  years  of  familiarity  could  not  entirely  deaden, 
but  the  gray  mask  of  the  banker  betrayed  no  emotion. 

In  that  view,  of  such  magnitude  that  miles  meant 
nothing,  there  was  not  a  sign  of  man  save  the  one 
slender  thread  of  road  that  was  so  soon  lost  in  the 
distance.  From  horizon  to  horizon,  so  far  that  the 
eye  ached  in  the  effort  to  comprehend  it,  there  was 
no  cloud  to  cast  a  shadow,  and  the  deep  sky  poured  its 
resistless  flood  of  light  upon  the  vast  dun  plain  with 
savage  fury,  as  if  to  beat  into  helplessness  any  living 
creature  that  might  chance  to  be  caught  thereon. 
And  the  desert,  receiving  that  flood  from  the  wide, 
hot  sky,  mysteriously  wove  with  it  soft  scarfs  of  lilac, 
misty  veils  of  purple  and  filmy  curtains  of  rose  and 
pearl  and  gold ;  strangely  formed  with  it  wide  lakes 
of  blue  rimmed  with  phantom  hills  of  red  and  violet 
— constantly  changing,  shifting,  scene  on  scene,  as 
dream  pictures  shift  and  change. 

Only  the  strange,  silent  life  that,  through  long 
years,  the  desert  had  taught  to  endure  its  hardships 
was  there — the  lizard,  horned-toad,  lean  jack-rabbit, 
gaunt  coyote,  and  their  kind.  Only  the  hard  growth 
that  the  ages  had  evolved  dotted  the  floor  of  the  Basin 

33 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

in  the  near  distance — the  salt-bush  and  greasewood, 
with  here  and  there  clumps  of  mesquite. 

And  over  it  all — over  the  strange  hard  life,  the 
weird,  constantly  shifting  scenes,  the  wondrous,  ever- 
changing  colors — was  the  dominant,  insistent,  com 
pelling  spirit  of  the  land;  a  brooding,  dreadful 
silence;  a  waiting — waiting — waiting;  a  mystic  call 
that  was  at  once  a  threat  and  a  promise ;  a  still  draw 
ing  of  the  line  across  which  no  man  might  go  and 
live,  save  those  master  men  who  should  win  the  right. 

After  a  while  the  engineer,  pointing,  said :  "The 
line  of  the  Southwestern  and  Continental  must  fol 
low  the  base  of  those  hills  away  over  there — is  that 
right,  Texas  ?" 

"That'll  be  about  it,"  the  driver  answered.  "I 
hear  you're  goin'  through  San  Antonio  Pass,  an' 
that's  to  the  north.  Rubio  City  lies  about  here — " 
he  pointed  a  little  south  of  east.  "Our  road  runs 
through  them  sand  hills  that  you  can  see  shinin' 
like  gold  a-way  over  there.  Dry  River  Crossin'  is 
jest  beyond.  You  can  see  Lone  Mountain  off  here 
to  the  south.  Hit'll  sure  be  some  warm  down  there. 
Look  at  them  dust-devil's  dancin'.  An'  over  there, 
where  you  see  that  yellow  mist  like,  is  a  big  sand 
storm.  We  ain't  likely  to  get  a  long  one  this  time  o' 
the  year.  But  you  can't  tell  what  this  old  desert  '11 
do ;  she's  sure  some  uncertain.  La  Palma  de  la  Mano 
de  Dios,  the  Injuns  call  it,  and  I  always  thought  that 
— all  things  considerin' — the  name  fits  mighty  close. 
You  can  see  hit's  jest  a  great  big  basin." 

"The  Hollow  of  God's  Hand."  repeated  the  Seer 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

in  a  low  tone.  He  lifted  his  hat  with  an  unconscious 
gesture  of  reverence. 

The  Irishman,  as  the  engineer  translated,  crossed 
himself.  "Howly  Mither,  fwhat  a  name !" 

Jefferson  Worth  spoke.    " Drive  on,  Texas." 

And  so,  with  the  yellow  dust-devils  dancing  along 
their  road  and  that  yellow  cloud  in  the  distance,  they 
moved  down  the  slope — down  into  The  King's  Basin 
— into  La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios,  The  Hollow  of 
God's  Hand. 

"Is  that  true,  sir  ?"  asked  Abe  of  the  Seer. 

"Is  what  true,  son?" 

"What  Texas  said  about  the  ocean." 

"Yes  it's  true.  The  lowest  point  of  this  Basin  is 
nearly  three  hundred  feet  below  sea  level.  The 
railroad  we  are  going  to  build  follows  right  around 
the  rim  on  the  other  side  over  there.  This  slope  that 
we  are  going  down  now  is  the  ancient  beach."  Then, 
while  they  pushed  on  into  the  silence  and  the  heat 
of  that  dreadful  land,  the  engineer  told  the  boy  and 
his  companions  how  the  ages  had  wrought  with  river 
and  wave  and  sun  and  wind  to  make  The  King's 
Basin  Desert. 

Wolf  Wells  they  found  dry  as  Texas  had  antici 
pated.  Phantom  Lake  also  was  dry.  Occasionally 
they  crossed  dry,  ancient  water  courses  made  by  the 
river  when  the  land  was  being  formed;  sometimes 
there  were  glassy,  hard,  bare  alkali  flats;  again  the 
trail  led  through  jungle-like  patches  of  desert  growth 
or  twisted  and  wound  between  high  hummocks. 
Always  there  was  the  wide,  hot  sky,  the  glaring  flood 
of  light  unbroken  by  shadow  masses  to  relieve  the 

35 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

eye  and  reflected  hotly  from  the  sandy  floor  of  the  old 
sea-bed. 

That  evening,  when  they  made  camp,  a  heavy  mass 
of  clouds  hung  over  the  top  of  No  Man's  Mountains 
and  the  long  Coast  Eange  that  walled  in  the  Basin. 
Texas  Joe,  watching  these  clouds,  said  nothing;  but 
when  Pat  threw  on  the  ground  the  water  left  in  his 
cup  after  drinking,  the  plainsman  opened  upon  him 
with  language  that  startled  them  all. 

The  next  day,  noon  found  them  in  the  first  of  the 
sand  hills.  There  was  no  sign  of  vegetation  here, 
for  the  huge  mounds  and  ridges  of  white  sand,  piled 
like  drifts  of  snow,  were  never  quite  still.  Always 
they  move  eastward  before  the  prevailing  winds  from 
the  west.  Through  the  greater  part  of  the  year  they 
advance  very  slowly,  but  when  the  fierce  gales  sweep 
down  from  the  mountains  they  roll  forward  so  swiftly 
that  any  object  in  their  path  is  quickly  buried  in  their 
smothering  depths. 

In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  Texas  climbed  to 
the  top  of  a  huge  drift  to  look  over  the  land.  The 
others  saw  him  stand  a  moment  against  the  sky, 
gazing  to  the  northwest,  then  he  turned  and  slid 
down  the  steep  side  of  the  mound  to  the  waiting 
wagon. 

"She's  comin'!"  he  remarked,  laconically,  "an' 
she's  a  big  one.  I  reckon  we  may  as  well  get  as  far 
as  we  can." 

A  few  minutes  later  they  saw  the  sky  behind  them 
filling  as  with  a  golden  mist.  The  atmosphere,  dry 
and  hot,  seemed  charged  with  mysterious,  terrible 
power.  The  very  mules  tossed  their  heads  uneasily 

36 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

and  tugged  at  the  reins  as  if  they  felt  themselves 
pursued  by  some  fearful  thing.  Straight  and  hard, 
with  terrific  velocity,  the  wind  was  coming  down 
through  the  mountain  passes  and  sweeping  across  the 
wide  miles  of  desert,  gathering  the  sand  as  it  came. 
Swiftly  the  golden  mist  extended  over  their  heads, 
a  thick,  yellow  fog,  through  which  the  sun  shone 
dully  with  a  weird,  unnatural  light.  Then  the  sting 
ing,  blinding,  choking  blast  was  upon  them  with 
pitiless,  savage  fury.  In  a  moment  all  signs  of  the 
trail  were  -obliterated.  Over  the  high  edges  of  the 
drift  the  sand  curled  and  streamed  like  blizzard  snow. 
About  the  outfit  it  whirled  and  eddied,  cutting  the 
faces  of  the  men  and  forcing  them,  with  closed  eyes, 
to  gasp  for  breath. 

Of  their  own  accord  the  mules  stopped  and  Texas 
shouted  to  Mr.  Worth:  "It  ain't  no  use  for  us  to 
try  to  go  on,  sir.  There  ain't  no  trail  now,  and  we'd 
jest  drift  around." 

As  far  from  the  lee  of  a  drift  as  possible,  all  hands 
— under  the  desert  man's  direction — worked  to  rig 
a  tarpaulin  on  the  windward  side  of  the  wagon. 
Then,  with  the  mules  unhitched  and  securely  tied 
to  the  vehicle,  the  men  crouched  under  their  rude 
shelter,  The  Irishman  was  choking,  coughing,  sput 
tering  and  cursing,  the  engineer  laughed  good- 
naturedly  at  their  predicament,  and  Abe  Lee  grinned 
in  sympathy,  while  Texas  Joe  accepted  the  situation 
grimly  with  the  forbearance  of  long  experience.  But 
Jefferson  Worth's  face  was  the  same  expressionless 
gray  mask.  He  gave  no  hint  of  impatience  at  the 
delay;  no  uneasiness  at  the  situation;  no  annoyance 

37 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBARA  WORTH 

at  the  discomfort.  It  was  as  though  he  had  foreseen 
the  situation  and  had  prepared  himself  to  meet  it. 
"How  long  do  you  figure  this  will  last,  Tex?"  he 
asked  in  his  colorless  voice. 

"Not  more  than  three  days/'  returned  the  driver. 
"It  may  be  over  in  three  hours." 

The  morning  of  the  second  day  they  crawled  from 
their  hlankets  beneath  the  wagon  to  find  the  sky 
clear  and  the  air  free  from  dust.  Eagerly  they  pre 
pared  to  move.  Against  their  shelter  the  sand  had 
drifted  nearly  to  the  top  of  the  wheels,  and  the 
wagon-box  itself  was  more  than  half  filled.  The 
hair,  eye-brows,  beard  and  clothing  of  the  men  were 
thickly  coated  with  powdery  dust,  while  every  sign 
of  the  trail  was  gone  and  the  wheels  sank  heavily  into 
the  soft  sand. 

Three  times  Texas  halted  the  laboring  team  and, 
climbing  to  the  summit  of  a  drift,  determined  his 
course  by  marks  unknown  to  those  who  waited  below. 
Again  they  stopped  for  the  plainsman  to  take  an 
observation,  and  this  time  the  four  in  the  wagon, 
watching  the  figure  of  the  driver  against  the  sky, 
saw  him  turn  abruptly  and  come  down  to  them  with 
long  plunging  strides.  Instinctively  they  knew  that 
something  unusual  had  come  under  his  eye. 

The  Seer  and  Jefferson  Worth  spoke  together. 
"What  is  it,  Tex?" 

"A  stray  horse  about  a  mile  ahead." 

For  the  first  time  Texas  Joe  uncoiled  the  long  lash 
of  his  whip  and  his  call  "You,  Buck!  Molly!"  was 
punctuated  by  pistol-like  cracks  that  sounded 
strangely  in  the  death-like  silence  of  the  sandy  waste. 

38 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

As  they  came  within  sight  of  the  strange  horse  the 
poor  beast  staggered  wearily  to  meet  the  wagon — the 
broken  strap  of  his  halter  swinging  loosely  from  his 
low-hanging  head. 

"Look  at  the  poor  baste,"  said  Pat.  "  'Tis  near 
dead  he  is  wid  thirst."  He  leaped  to  the  ground  and 
started  toward  the  water  barrel  in  the  rear  of  the 
wagon. 

"Hold  on,  Pat,"  said  the  colorless  voice  of  Jef 
ferson  Worth.  And  his  words  were  followed  by  the 
report  of  Texas  Joe's  forty-five. 

The  Irishman  turned  to  see  the  strange  horse  lying 
dead  on  the  sand.  "Fwhat  the  hell — "  he  demanded 
hotly,  but  Texas  was  eyeing  him  coolly,  and  some 
thing  checked  the  anger  of  the  Irishman. 

"You  don't  seem  to  sabe,"  drawled  the  man  of  the 
desert,  replacing  the  empty  shell  in  his  gun.  "There 
ain't  hardly  enough  water  to  carry  us  through  now, 
an'  we  may  have  to  pick  up  this  other  outfit." 

No  one  spoke  as  Pat  climbed  heavily  back  to  his 
seat. 

For  two  miles  the  tracks  of  the  strange  horse  were 
visible,  then  they  were  blotted  out  by  the  sand  that 
had  filled  them.  "He  made  that  much  since  the 
blow,"  was  Texas'  slow  comment.  "How  far  we  are 
from  where  he  started  is  all  guess." 

As  they  pushed  on,  all  eyes  searched  the  country 
eagerly  and  before  long  they  found  the  spot  for  which 
they  looked.  A  light  spring  wagon  with  a  piece  of  a 
halter  strap  tied  to  one  of  the  wheels  was  more  than 
half-buried  by  the  sand  in  the  lee  of  a  high  drift. 
There  was  a  small  water  keg,  empty,  with  its  seams 

39 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETE 

already  beginning  to  open  in  the  fierce  heat  of  the 
sun,  a  "grub-box,"  some  bedding  and  part  of  a  bale 
of  hay — nothing  more. 

Jefferson  Worth,  Pat  and  the  boy  attempted  to  dig 
in  the  steep  side  of  the  drift  that  rose  above  the 
half-buried  outfit,  but  at  their  every  movement  tons 
of  the  dry  sand  came  sliding  down  upon  them.  "It 
ain't  no  use,  Mr.  Worth,"  said  Texas,  as  the  banker 
straightened  up,  baffled  in  his  effort.  "You  will 
never  know  what's  buried  in  there  until  God 
Almighty  uncovers  it." 

Then  the  man  of  the  desert  and  plains  read  the 
story  of  the  tragedy  as  though  he  had  been  an  eye  wit 
ness.  "They  was  travelin'  light  an'  counted  on  makin' 
good  time.  They  must  have  counted,  too,  on,  findin' 
water  in  the  hole."  He  kicked  the  empty  keg.  "Their 
supply  give  out  an'  then  that  sand-storm  caught  'em 
and  the  horses  broke  loose.  Of  course  they  would 
go  to  hunt  their  stock,  not  darin'  to  be  left  afoot  and 
without  water,  an'  hits  a  thousand  to  one  they  never 
got  back  to  the  outfit.  We're  takin'  too  many 
chances  ourselves  to  lose  much  time  and  I  don't 
reckon  there's  any  use,  but  we'd  better  look  around 
maybe." 

He  directed  the  little  party  to  scatter  and  to  keep 
on  the  high  ground  so  that  they  would  not  lose 
sight  of  each  other.  Until  well  on  in  the  afternoon 
they  searched  the  vicinity,  but  with  no  reward,  while 
the  hot  sun,  the  dry  burning  waste  and  the  glaring 
sands  of  the  desert  warned  them  that  every  hour's 
delay  might  mean  their  own  death.  When  they 
returned  at  last  to  the  wagon,  called  in  by  Texas,  no 

40 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

one  spoke.  As  they  went  on  their  way  each  was  busy 
with  his  own  thoughts  of  the  grim  evidence  of  the 
desert's  power. 

Another  hour  passed.  Suddenly  Texas  halted  the 
mules  and,  with  an  exclamation,  leaped  to  the  ground. 
The  others  saw  that  he  was  bending  over  a  dim 
track  in  the  sand. 

"My  God !  men,"  he  shouted,  "hit's  a  woman." 

For  a  short  way  he  followed  the  foot-prints,  then, 
running  back  to  the  wagon  and  springing  to  his  seat, 
swung  his  long  whip  and  urged  the  team  ahead. 

"Hit's  a  woman,"  he  repeated.  "When  the  others 
went  away  and  didn't  come  back  she  started  ahead 
in  the  storm  alone.  She  had  got  this  far  when  the 
blow  quit,  leavin'  her  tracks  to  show.  We  may — " 
He  urged  his  mules  to  greater  effort. 

The  prints  of  the  woman's  shoe  could  be  plainly 
seen  now.  "Look!"  said  Tex,  pointing,  "she's  stag- 
gerin' Now  she's  stopped!  Whoa!"  Throw 
ing  his  weight  on  the  lines  he  leaned  over  from 
his  seat.  "Look,  men!  Look  there!"  he  cried,  as 
he  pointed.  "She's  carryin'  a  kid.  See,  there's 
where  she  set  it  down  for  a  rest."  It  was  all  too 
clear.  Beside  the  woman's  track  were  the  prints  of 
two  baby  shoes. 

The  Seer,  with  a  long  breath,  drew  his  hand  across 
his  sand-begrimed  face.  "Hurry,  Tex.  For  God's 
sake,  hurry!" 

The  Irishman  was  cursing  fiercely  in  impotent 
rage,  clenching  and  unclenching  his  huge,  hairy 
fists.  The  boy  cowered  in  his  seat.  But  not  a  change 
came  over  the  mask-like  features  of  Jefferson  Worth. 

41 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

Only  the  delicate,  pointed  fingers  of  bis  nervous 
hands  caressed  constantly  his  unshaven  chin,  fingered 
his  clothing,  or  gripped  the  edge  of  the  wagon  seat 
as  he  leaned  forward  in  his  place.  Texas — grim, 
cool,  alert,  his  lean  figure  instinct  now  with  action 
and  his  dark  eyes  alight — swung  his  long  whip  and 
handled  his  reins  with  a  master's  skill,  calling  upon 
every  atom  of  his  team's  strength,  while  reading  those 
tracks  in  the  sand  as  one  would  scan  a  printed  page. 

It  was  all  written  there — that  story  of  mother 
love ;  where  she  staggered  with  fatigue ;  where  she 
was  forced  to  rest;  where  the  baby  walked  a  little 
way;  and  once  or  twice  where  the  little  one  stum 
bled  and  fell  as  the  sand  proved  too  heavy  for  the 
little  feet.  And  all  the  while  the  desert,  dragging 
with  dead  weight  at  the  wheels,  seemed  to  fight 
against  them.  It  was  as  though  the  dreadful  land 
knew  that  only  time  was  needed  to  complete  its 
work.  Then  the  hot  sun  dropped  beyond  the  purple 
wall  of  mountain  and  the  mystery  of  the  long  twilight 
began. 

"Dry  River  Crossing  is  just  ahead,"  said  Tex, 
and  soon  the  outfit  pitched  down  the  steep  bank  of 
a  deep  wash  that  had  been  made  in  some  forgotten 
age  by  an  overflow  of  the  great  river.  Occasionally, 
after  the  infrequent  rains  of  winter,  some  water  was 
to  be  found  here  in  a  hole  under  the  high  bank  a 
short  way  from  the  trail. 

With  a  crash  of  brakes  the  team  stopped  at  the 
bottom.  The  men,  springing  from  the  wagon  and 
leaving  the  panting  mules  to  stand  with  drooping 
heads,  started  to  search  the  wash.  But  in  a  moment 

42 


He  had  lifted  the  canteen  and  was  holding  it  upside  down 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

Texas  shouted  and  the  others  quickly  joined  him. 
Near  the  dry  water  hole  lay  the  body  of  a  woman. 
By  her  side  was  a  small  canteen. 

The  engineer  bent  to  examine  the  still  form  for 
some  sign  of  life. 

"It  ain't  no  use,  sir,"  said  Texas.  "She's  gone." 
He  had  lifted  the  canteen  and  was  holding  it  upside 
down.  With  his  finger  he  touched  the  mouth  of  the 
vessel  and  held  out  his  hand.  The  finger  was  wet. 
"You  see,"  he  said,  "when  her  men-folks  didn't  come 
back  she  started  with  the  kid  an'  what  water  she  had. 
But  she  wouldn't  drink  none  herself,  an'  the  hard  trip 
in  the  heat  and  sand  carryin'  the  baby,  an'  findin' 
the  water  hole  dry  was  too  much  for  her.  If  only  we 
had  known  an'  come  on,  instead  of  huntin'  back  there 
where  it  wasn't  no  use,  we'd  a-been  in  time." 

As  the  little  party — speechless  at  the  words  of 
Texas — stood  in  the  twilight,  looking  down  upon 
the  lifeless  form,  a  chorus  of  wild,  snarling,  barking 
yowls,  with  long-drawn,  shrill  howls,  broke  on  the 
still  air.  It  was  the  coyotes'  evening  call.  To  the 
silent  men  the  weird  sound  seemed  the  triumphant 
cry  of  the  Desert  itself  and  they  started  in  horror. 

Then  from  the  dusky  shadow  of  the  high  bank 
farther  up  the  wash  came  another  cry  that  broke  the 
spell  that  was  upon  them  and  drew  an  answering 
shout  from  their  lips  as  they  ran  forward. 

"Mamma !  Mamma !  Barba  wants  drink.  Please 
bring  drink,  mamma.  Barba's  'fraid!" 

Jefferson  Worth  reached  her  first.  Close  under 
the  bank,  where  she  had  wandered  after  "mamma" 
lay  down  to  sleep,  and  evidently  just  awakened  from 

43 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

a  tired  nap  by  the  coyotes'  cry,  sat  a  little  girl  of 
not  more  than  four  years.  Her  brown  hair  was  all 
tumbled  and  tossed,  and  her  big  brown  eyes  were 
wide  with  wondering  fear  at  the  four  strange  men 
and  the  boy  who  stood  over  her. 

aMamma !  Mamma !"  she  whimpered,  "Barba 
wants  mamma." 

Jefferson  Worth  knelt  before  her,  holding  out  his 
hands,  and  his  voice,  as  he  spoke  to  the  baby,  made 
his  companions  look  at  him  in  wonder,  it  was  so 
full  of  tenderness. 

The  little  girl  fixed  her  big  eyes  questioningly  upon 
the  kneeling  man.  The  others  waited,  breathless. 
Then  suddenly,  as  if  at  something  she  saw  in  the 
gray  face  of  the  financier,  the  little  one  drew  back 
with  fear  upon  her  baby  features  and  in  her  baby 
voice.  "Go  Vay!  Go  'way!"  she  cried.  Then 
again,  "Mamma!  Barba  wants  mamma."  Jeffer 
son  Worth  turned  sadly  away,  his  head  bowed  as 
though  with  disappointment  or  shame. 

The  others,  now,  in  turn  tried  to  win  her  con 
fidence.  The  plainsman  and  the  Irishman  she  re 
garded  gravely,  as  she  had  looked  at  the  banker,  but 
without  fear.  The  boy  won  a  little  smile,  but  she  still 
held  back — hesitating — reluctant.  Then  with  a  piti 
ful  little  gesture  of  confidence  and  trust,  she  stretched 
forth  her  arms  to  the  big  brown-eyed  engineer. 
"Barba  wants  drink,"  she  said,  and  the  Seer  took 
her  in  his  arms. 

At  the  wagon  it  was  Jefferson  Worth  who  offered 
her  a  tin  cup  of  water,  but  again  she  shrank  from 
him,  throwing  her  arms  about  the  neck  of  the  Seer. 

44 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  engineer,  taking  the  cup  from  the  banker's 
hands,  gave  her  a  drink. 

While  Mr.  Worth  and  the  boy  prepared  a  hasty 
meal,  Texas  fed  his  team  and  the  Irishman,  going 
back  a  short  distance,  made  still  another  grave  beside 
the  road  already  marked  by  so  many.  The  child — 
still  in  the  engineer's  arms — ate  hungrily,  and  when 
the  meal  was  over  he  took  her  to  the  wagon,  while 
the  others,  with  a  lantern,  returned  to  the  still  form 
by  the  dry  water  hole.  At  the  banker's  suggestion, 
a  thorough  examination  of  the  woman's  clothing  was 
made  for  some  clue  to  her  identity,  but  no  mark 
was  found.  With  careful  hands  they  reverently 
wrapped  the  body  in  a  blanket  and  laid  it  away  in  its 
rude,  sandy  bed. 

When  the  grave  was  filled  and  protected  as  best  it 
could  be,  a  short  consultation  was  held.  Mr.  Worth 
wished  to  return  to  the  half  buried  outfit  to  make 
another  effort  to  learn  the  identity  of  the  Desert's 
victim,  but  Texas  refused.  "  'Tain't  that  I  ain't 
willin'  to  do  what's  right,"  he  said,  "but  you  see 
how  that  sand  acted.  Why,  Mr.  Worth,  you  couldn't 
move  that  there  drift  in  a  year,  an'  you  know  it.  I 
jest  gave  the  mules  the  last  water  they'll  get  an'  we're 
goin'  to  have  all  we  can  do  to  make  it  through  as  it  is. 
If  we  wait  to  go  back  there  ain't  one  chance  in  a 
hundred  that  we-all  '11  ever  see  Rubio  City  again. 
It  ain't  sense  to  risk  killin'  the  kid  when  we've  got 
a  chance  to  save  her — jest  on  a  slim  chance  o'  findin' 
out  who  she  is." 

Returning  to  the  outfit  they  very  quietly — so  as 
not  to  awaken  the  sleeping  child — hitched  the  team 

45 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

to  the  wagon  and  took  their  places.  As  the  mules 
started  the  baby  stirred  uneasily  in  the  Seer's  arms 
and  murmured  sleepily:  "Mamma."  But  the  low, 
soothing  tones  of  the  big  man  calmed  her  and  she 
slept. 

Hour  after  hour  of  the  long  night  dragged  by. 
They  had  left  the  sand  hills  behind  three  miles  before 
they  reach 'i  Dry  River  and  now  the  wide,  level 
reaches  of  the  thinly  covered  plain,  forbidding  and 
ghostly  under  the  stars,  seemed  to  stretch  away  on 
every  side  into  infinite  space.  Involuntarily  all  the 
members  of  the  little  party,  except  Texas  Joe, 
strained  their  emr\  looking  into  the  blank,  silent 
distance  for  P^IitS,  "and,  as  they  looked,  they  turned 
their  heads  constantly  to  listen  for  some  sound  of 
human  life.  But  in  all  that  vast  expanse  there  was 
no  light  save  the  light  of  the  stars ;  in  all  that  silent 
waste  there  was  no  sound  save  the  occasional  call  of 
the  coyote,  the  plaintive,  quivering  note  r 
ground-owls,  the  muffled  fall  of  the  mules'  feet  "^  / 
soft  earth,  and  the  dull  chuck,  creak,  and  rur 
the  wagon  with  the  clink  of  trace  chains  and  ine 
squeak  of  straining  harness  leather.  And  always  it 
was  as  though  that  dreadful  land  clung  to  them  with 
heavy  hands,  matching  its  strength  against  the 
strength  of  these  who  braved  its  silent  threat,  seeking 
to  hold  them  as  it  held  so  many  others.  The  men 
spoke  rarely  and  then  in  low  tones.  The  baby  in  the 
Seer's  arms  slept.  Only  Texas,  and  perhaps  his 
team,  knew  how  they  kept  the  dimly  marked  trail 
that  led  to  life.  Perhaps  Texas  himself  did  not 
know. 

46 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

At  daybreak  they  halted  for  a  brief  rest  and  for 
breakfast.  The  child  ate  with  the  others,  but  still 
clung  to  the  engineer,  and  while  asking  often  for 
"mamma,"  seemed  to  trust  her  big  protector  fully. 
From  the  shelter  of  his  arms  she  even  smiled  at  the 
efforts  of  Texas,  Pat  and  the  boy  to  amuse  and  keep 
her  attention  from  her  loss.  From  Jefferson  Worth 
she  still  shrank  in  fear  and  the  otheysi  wondered 
at  the  pain  in  that  gray  face  as  all  his  efforts  to  win 
a  smile  or  a  kind  look  from  the  baby  were  steadily 
repulsed. 

It  was  Texas  who,  when  they  halted,  poured  the 
last  of  the  water  from  the  barrel  i~  ^o  the  canteen  and 
carefully  measured  out  to  each  a  tu^ll  portion.  It 
was  Texas  now  who  gave  the  word  to  start  again  on 
their  journey.  And  when  the  desert  man  placed  the 
canteen  with  their  meager  supply  of  water  in  the  cor 
ner  of  the  wagon-box  under  his  own  feet  the  others 
un  tetood  and  made  no  comment. 

i.^i noon,  when  each  was  given  his  carefully  meas- 
ure&'f  .portion  from  the  canteen,  Jefferson  Worth, 
beiofe  they  could  check  him,  wet  his  handkerchief 
with  his  share  of  the  water  and  gave  it  to  the  Seer  to 
wipe  the  dust  from  the  hot  little  face  of  the  child. 
The  eyes  of  the  big  engineer  filled  and  Texas,  with 
an  oath  that  was  more  reverent  than  profane,  poured 
another  measure  and  forced  the  banker  to  drink. 

As  the  long,  hot,  thirsty  hours  of  that  afternoon 
dragged  slowly  past,  the  faces  of  the  men  grew  worn 
and  haggard.  The  two  days  and  nights  in  the  trying 
storm,  the  exertion  of  their  search  among  the  sand 
hills,  the  excitement  of  finding  the  woman's  body 

47 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

and  the  discovery  of  the  child,  followed  by  the  long 
sleepless  night,  and  now  the  hard,  hot,  dreary  hours 
of  the  struggle  with  the  Desert  that  seemed  to  gather 
all  its  dreadful  strength  against  them,  were  beginning 
to  tell.  Texas  Joe,  forced  to  give  constant  attention 
to  his  team  and  hardened  by  years  of  experience, 
showed  the  strain  least,  while  Pat,  unfitted  for  such 
a  trial  by  his  protracted  spree  in  San  Felipe,  un- 
doubtedly  suffered  most. 

After  dinner  the  Irishman  sat  motionless  in  hia 
place  with  downcast  face,  lifting  his  head  only  at 
long  intervals  to  gaze  with  fierce  hot  eyes  upon  the 
barren  landscape,  while  muttering  to  himself  in  a 
growling  undertone.  Later  he  seemed  to  sink  into  a 
stupor  and  appeared  to  be  scarcely  conscious  of  his 
companions.  Suddenly  he  roused  himself  and,  bend 
ing  forward  with  a  quick  motion,  reached  the 
canteen  from  under  the  driver's  seat.  In  the  act  of 
unscrewing  the  cap  he  was  halted  by  the  calm  voice 
of  Texas :  "Put  that  back." 

"Go  to  hell  wid  ye !    I'm  no  sun-dried  herrin'." 

The  cap  came  loose,  but  as  he  raised  the  canteen 
and  lifted  his  face  with  open  parched  lips  he  looked 
straight  into  the  muzzle  of  the  big  forty-five  and 
back  of  the  gun  into  the  steady  eyes  of  the  plains 
man.  "I'm  sorry,  pard,  but  you  can't  do  it." 

For  an  instant  the  Irishman  sat  as  if  suddenly 
turned  to  stone.  The  water  was  within  reach  of 
his  lips,  but  over  the  canteen  certain  death  looked  at 
him,  for  there  was  no  mistaking  the  expression  on  the 
face  of  that  man  with  the  gun.  Beside  himself  with 
thirst,  forgetting  everything  but  the  water,  and 

48 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

utterly  reckless  he  growled :  "Shoot  an'  be  domned, 
ye  murderin7  savage!"  and  again  started  to  lift  the 
cloth-covered  vessel. 

At  that  instant  the  baby,  catching  sight  of  the  can 
teen,  called  from  the  rear  seat :  "Barba  wants  drink. 
Barba  thirsty,  too." 

As  though  Texas  had  pulled  the  trigger  the  Irish 
man  dropped  his  hand.  Slowly  he  looked  from  face 
to  face  of  his  companions — a  dazed  expression  on  his 
own  countenance,  as  though  he  were  awakening  from 
a  dream.  The  child,  clinging  to  the  Seer  with  one 
hand  and  pointing  with  the  other,  said  again: 
"Barba  thirsty ;  please  give  Barba  drink." 

A  look  of  horror  and  shame  went  over  the  face  of 
the  Irishman,  his  form  shook  like  a  leaf  and  his 
trembling  hands  could  scarcely  hold  the  canteen. 
"My  Gawd!  bhoys,"  he  cried,  "fwhat's  this  I  was 
doin'  ?"  Then  he  burst  suddenly  upon  Tex  with : 
"Why  the  hell  don't  ye  shoot,  domn  ye?  A  baste 
like  me  is  fit  for  nothin'  but  to  rot  in  this  Gawd- 
forsaken  land!" 

The  fierce  rage  of  the  man  at  his  own  act  was 
pitiful.  Texas  dropped  his  gun  into  the  holster  and 
turned  his  face  away.  Jefferson  Worth  held  out  a 
cup.  "Give  the  little  one  some  water,  Pat,"  he  said, 
in  his  cold,  exact  way. 

With  shaking  hands  the  Irishman  poured  a  little 
into  the  cup  and,  screwing  the  cap  back  on  the  can 
teen,  he  returned  it  to  its  place.  Then  with  a  groan 
he  bowed  his  face  in  his  great,  hairy  hands. 

Just  before  sun-down  they  climbed  up  the  ancient 
beach  line  to  the  rim  of  the  Basin  and  the  Mesa  on 

49 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAEA  WOETH 

the  east.  Halting  here  for  a  brief  rest  and  for 
supper,  they  looked  back  over  the  low,  wide  land 
through  which  they  had  come.  All  along  the  western 
sky  and  far  to  the  southward,  the  wall-like  moun 
tains  lifted  their  purple  heights  from  the  dun  plain, 
a  seemingly  impassable  barrier,  shutting  in  the  land 
of  death;  shutting  out  the  life  that  came  to  their 
feet  on  the  other  side.  To  the  north  the  hills  that 
rim  the  Basin  caught  the  slanting  rays  of  the  setting 
sun  and  glowed  rose-color,  and  pink,  and  salmon, 
with  deep  purple  shadows  where  canyons  opened,  all 
rising  out  of  drifts  of  silvery  light.  To  the  north 
west  two  distant,  gleaming,  snow-capped  peaks  of 
the  Coast  Eange  marked  San  Antonio  Pass.  To 
the  west  Lone  Mountain  showed  dark  blue  against 
the  purple  of  the  hills  beyond.  Down  in  the  desert 
basin,  drifting  above  and  woven  through  the  ever- 
shifting  masses  of  color,  shimmering  phantom  lakes, 
and  dull,  dusky  patches  of  green  and  brown,  long 
streamers,  bars  and  threads  of  dust  shone  like  gleam 
ing  gold. 

Texas  Joe,  when  he  had  poured  for  each  his  por 
tion  of  water,  shook  the  canteen  carefully,  and  a 
smile  spread  slowly  over  his  sun-blackened  features. 
"What's  left  belongs  to  the  kid,"  he  said.  "But  we'll 
make  it.  We'll  jest  about  make  it." 

The  Irishman  lifted  his  cup  toward  the  Desert, 
saying  solemnly :  "Here's  to  ye,  domn  ye !  Ye  ain't 
got  us  yet.  May  ye  burn  an'  blishther  an'  scorch  an' 
bake  'til  yer  danged  heart  shrivels  up  an'  blows 
away." 

Then  he  fell  to  amusing  the  child  with  loving  fun- 

50 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

talk  and  queer  antics,  until  she  laughed  aloud  and 
permitted  him  to  catch  her  up  in  his  big  hairy  hands 
and  to  toss  her  high  in  the  air.  Texas  and  Abe, 
joining  in  the  frolic,  shared  with  Pat  the  little  lady's 
favor,  while  the  Seer  looked  smilingly  on.  But  when 
Jefferson  Worth  approached,  with  an  offering  of 
pretty  stones  and  shells  which  he  had  gathered  on 
the  old  beach,  she  ran  up  to  the  engineer's  arms. 
Still  coaxing,  the  banker  held  out  his  offering.  Tho 
others  were  silent,  watching.  Timidly  at  last,  the 
child  put  forth  her  little  hands  and  accepted  the  gift, 
shrinking  back  quickly  with  her  treasures  to  the  shel 
ter  of  the  big  man's  arms. 

It  was  just  after  noon  the  next  day  when  the  men 
at  the  wagon  yard  on  the  edge  of  Rubio  City  looked 
up  to  see  Jefferson  Worth's  outfit  approaching.  The 
dust-covered,  nearly-exhausted  team  staggered  weakly 
through  the  gate.  On  the  driver's  seat  sat  a  haggard, 
begrimed  figure  holding  the  reins  in  his  right  hand ; 
and  in  his  lap,  supported  by  his  free  arm,  a  little  girl 
lay  fast  asleep.  Then  as  one  of  the  mules  lay  down, 
the  men  went  forward  on  the  run. 

Texas  stared  at  them  dully  for  a  moment.  Then, 
as  he  dropped  the  reins,  his  parched,  cracked  lips 
parted  in  what  was  meant  for  a  smile  and  he  said,  in 
a  thick,  choking  whisper:  "We  made  it,  boys:  we 
jest  made  it.  Somebody  take  the  kid." 

Eager  hands  relieved  him  of  his  burden  and  he 
slid  heavily  to  the  ground  to  stand  dizzily  holding  on 
to  a  wheel  for  support. 

One  of  the  men  said  sharply:    "But  where's  Mr. 


51 


THE  WOTTING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Worth,  Tex?  What  have  you  done  with  Jefferson 
Worth  an'  what  you  doin'  with  a  kid  ?" 

Texas  Joe  gazed  at  the  questioner  steadily  as  if 
summoning  all  his  strength  of  will  in  an  effort  to 
think.  "Hello,  Jack!  Why — damned  if  I  know — 
he  was  with  me  a  little  while  ago." 

The  engineer,  the  banker,  the  Irishman  and  the 
boy  were  lying  unconscious  on  the  bottom  of  the 
wagon. 


52 


CHAPTER  III. 
MISS  BARBARA  WORTH. 

|RS.  WORTH,  sitting  on  the  wide  veranda  of 
her  home  after  a  lonely  supper,  lifted  her 

eyes  frequently  from  the  work  in  her  lap  to 

look  down  the  street.  Perhaps  it  was  unusual  for  a 
banker's  wife  to  be  darning  her  husband's  socks;  it 
may  be,  even,  that  bankers  do  not  usually  wear  socks 
that  have  been  darned.  But  Mrs.  Worth  was  not 
sensible  that  her  task  was  at  all  strange. 

A  group  of  dust-covered  cow-boys,  coming  into 
town  for  an  evening's  pleasure,  jogged  past  with  loud 
laughter  and  soft-clinking  spurs  and  bridle-chains. 
"There's  Jefferson  Worth's  place,"  said  one.  aD'ye 
reckon  he'll  make  good  corralin'  all  the  money  there 
is  in  the  world  ?" 

Xow  and  then  a  carriage,  filled  with  well-to-do 
citizens  out  for  an  evening  ride,  drove  slowly  by. 
The  people  in  the  carriages  always  saluted  Mrs. 
Worth  and  she  returned  their  salutations  with  a  prim 
little  bow.  But  no  one  stopped  to  chat  or  to  offer 
her  a  seat.  In  this,  also,  there  was  nothing  strange 
to  the  woman  on  the  porch  of  the  big,  empty  house. 
Sometimes  the  people  in  the  carriages,  entertaining 
visiting  friends,  pointed  to  Jefferson  Worth's  house, 
with  proper  explanations,  as  they  also  called  attention 
to  the  Pioneer  Bank — Jefferson  Worth's  bank. 

53 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

When  dusk  came  and  she  could  no  longer  see,  Mrs. 
Worth  laid  aside  her  work  and  sat  with  folded  hands, 
her  face  turned  down  the  street.  Inside  the  house 
the  lights  were  not  yet  on;  there  was  no  need  for 
them  and  she  liked  to  sit  in  the  dark. 

The  Indian  servant  woman  came  softly  to  the  door. 
"Does  the  Senora  wish  anything  ?" 

"!Nb,  thank  you,  Ynez ;  come  and  sit  down." 

Noiselessly  the  woman  seated  herself  on  the  top 
step. 

"It  has  been  warm  to-day,  Ynez." 

"Si,  Senora." 

"It  is  nearly  three  weeks  since  Mr.  Worth  left  with 
Texas  Joe  for  San  Felipe,  Ynez." 

"Si,  Senora." 

"Do  you  know  how  far  it  is  across  the  Desert  to 
San  Felipe?" 

"Si.  I  think  three — four  day,  maybe  five,  Senora." 

"It  will  be  very  hot." 

"Si,  Senora.  Las'  year  my  sister's  man — Jose — 
go  for  San  Felipe.  No  much  water.  He  no  come 
back." 

"Yes,  I  remember.  What  is  it  your  people  call 
The  King's  Basin  Desert?  The  Hollow  of  God's 
Hand,  isn't  it  ?" 

"Si,  Senora.    La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios." 

"I  wish  they  would  come." 

"He  come  pretty  quick,  I  think.  Mebbe  so  he  not 
start  when  he  think.  Mebbe  so  what  you  call  'bees- 
ness'  not  let  him  come,"  said  the  Indian  woman, 
soothingly, 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

"But  Mr.  Worth  expected  to  be  back  two  days  ago 
and  lie  is  always  on  time,  you  know,  Ynez." 

"Si,  Senora.  But  mebbe  so  this  one  time  differ 
ent." 

"I  do  wish  they  would Look,  Ynez,  look! 

There's  some  one  stopping!" 

A  carriage  was  turning  in  toward  the  house. 

"It  is  Senor  Worth,"  said  the  Indian  woman. 

"Someone  is  with  him,  Ynez.    They  have  a  child." 

As  Jefferson  Worth  and  the  Seer  came  up  the 
walk — the  engineer  carrying  the  little  girl — Mrs. 
Worth  rose  unsteadily  to  her  feet.  "Run,  quick, 
Ynez— quick !  The  lights !" 

That  night  when  the  Seer,  with  everything  possible 
done  for  his  comfort,  had  retired,  and  the  baby — 
bathed  and  fed — was  sound  asleep  in  a  child's  bed 
that  Ynez  had  brought  from  an  unused  room  in  the 
banker's  big  house  and  placed  in  Mrs.  Worth's  own 
chamber,  Jefferson  Worth  and  his  wife  crept  softly 
to  the  little  girl's  bedside.  Silently  they  looked  at 
the  baby  form  under  the  snow-white  coverlet  and  at 
the  round,  baby  face,  with  the  tumbled  brown  hair, 
on  the  pillow. 

Mrs.  Worth  clasped  her  hands  in  eager  longing  as 
she  whispered:  "Oh,  Jeff,  can  we  keep  her?  Can 
we?" 

Jefferson  Worth  answered  in  his  careful  manner: 
"Did  you  look  for  marks  on  her  clothing  ?" 

"There  was  nothing — not  a  letter  even.  And  all 
that  she  can  tell  of  her  name  is  Barba.  I'm  sure  she 
means  Barbara."  As  she  answered,  Mrs.  Worth 
searched  her  husband's  face  anxiously.  Then  she 

55 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

exclaimed:  "Oh  you  do  want  her;  you  do!"  and 
added  wistfully:  "Of  course  we  must  try  to  find 
her  folks,  but  do  you  think  it  very  wrong,  Jeff,  to 
wish — to  wish  that  we  never  do?  I  feel  as  though 
she  were  sent  to  take  the  place  of  our  own  little  girl. 
We  need  her  so,  Jeff.  I  need  her  so — and  you — you 
will  need  her,  when — "  There  was  a  day  coming 
that  the  banker  and  his  wife  did  not  talk  about. 
Since  the  birth  and  death  of  their  one  child,  Mrs. 
Worth  had  been  a  hopeless  invalid. 

Several  weeks  passed  and  every  effort  to  find  little 
Barbara's  people  was  fruitless.  Inquiry  in  Rubio 
City  and  San  Felipe  and  through  the  newspapers  on 
the  Coast  brought  no  returns.  The  land  in  those 
days  was  a  land  of  strangers  where  people  came  and 
went  with  little  notice  and  were  lost  quickly  in  the 
ever-restless  tide.  It  was  not  at  all  strange  that  no 
one  could  identify  an  outfit  of  which  it  was  possible 
to  tell  only  of  a  woman  and  child  and  one  bay  horse. 
There  were  many  outfits  with  a  woman  and  child  in 
the  party  and  many  that  had  among  the  two,  four, 
six,  or  more  animals  one  bay  horse. 

In  the  meantime,  little  Barbara,  in  her  new  home, 
was  growing  gradually  away  from  all  that  had  gone 
before  her  long  ride  in  the  big  wagon  with  the  men. 
Already  she  was  beginning  to  talk  of  her  "other 
mamma  and  papa."  Mrs.  Worth  slipped  into  the 
other  woman's  place  in  the  childish  heart,  even  as 
little  Barbara  filled  the  empty  mother-heart  of  the 
woman. 

Toward  Mr.  Worth,  though  she  no  longer  shrank 
from  him  in  fear,  the  little  girl  maintained  an  atti- 

56 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

tilde  of  questioning  regard.  With  Texas  or  Pat  or 
the  boy  Abe,  who  often  went  together  to  see  her,  she 
laughed  and  chattered  like  a  good  little  comrade  and 
play-fellow.  But  when  the  Seer  came,  as  he  did 
whenever  his  duties  and  his  presence  in  town  would 
permit,  she  flew  to  him  with  eager  love,  climbing  on 
his  knee  or  snuggling  under  his  arm  with  entire  con 
fidence  and  understanding. 

Public  interest  in  Rubio  City,  keen  at  first,  died 
out  quickly.  Rubio  City,  in  those  days  of  railroad 
building,  had  too  many  things  of  interest  to  retain 
any  one  thing  long.  Still,  because  it  was  Jefferson 
Worth,  Rubio  City  could  not  altogether  drop  the 
matter.  So  it  was  one  evening  in  the  Gold  Bar 
saloon,  where  Pat,  coming  into  town  for  a  quiet 
evening  from  the  grading  camp  on  the  new  road,  and 
Texas  Joe,  who  was  just  back  from  another  trip 
across  the  Desert,  were  having  a  friendly  glass  in  a 
quiet  corner. 

"Is  there  anythin'  doin'  in  that  San  Felipe  I  don't 
know  ?"  was  Pat's  natural  question.  "Things  is  that 
slow  in  this  danged  town  I'm  gettin'  all  dead  on  me 
insides." 

Texas  grinned  in  his  slow  way.  "There'll  be 
another  pay  day  before  long." 

"Yes,  an'  'tis  ye  that'll  be  'round  agin  to  kape 
me  from  proper  enjoyment  av  the  blissin's  av  civiliza 
tion  wid  yer  talk  av  the  gold  that's  to  be  found  in 
thim  mountains  that  nobody  but  ye  knows  where 
they  are.  'Tis  a  fool  I  am  to  be  listenin'  to  yer 
crazy  drames." 

"Just  keep  your  shirt  on  a  little  longer,  pard," 

57 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

returned  the  other  soothingly.  "We've  most  enough 
for  a  grub-stake  now.  When  we're  a  little  mite  better 
fixed  we'll  pull  out  of  this  sinful  land  o'  temptation 
an'  when  we  come  back" — he  drew  a  long  breath — 
"we'll  do  the  thing  up  proper." 

Pat  dropped  his  glass  with  a  thump.  "We  will," 
he  said.  "We  will  that.  An'  it's  to  San  Felipe  we'll 
go.  Tell  me,  did  you  see  no  wan  there  inquirin' 
afther  me  good  health  this  last  thrip  ?" 

"I  kept  away  from  Sailor  Mike's  place,  not  wishin' 
to  deprive  you  of  your  share  o'  the  sport.  But  I  met 
a  big  policeman  who  said:  'Tell  that  red-headed 
Irish  bum  that  it'll  be  better  for  his  health  to  stay 
away  from  San  Felipe.' ' 

"He  did,  did  he?  He  towld  ye  that?  The  big 
slob !  He  knows  ut  will  be  better  for  him.  Fwhat 
did  ye  tell  him  ?" 

"I  said  you'd  decided  to  locate  here  permanent." 

Pat  gasped  for  breath.  "Ye  towld  him  that !  Ye 
did !  Yer  a  danged  sun-baked  herrin'  av  a  man  wid 
no  proper  spirit  at  all.  Fwhat  the  hell  do  ye  mane 
to  be  so  slanderin'  me  reputation  an'  two  or  three 
hundred  miles  av  disert  between  me  an'  him  ?  For  a 
sup  av  wather  I'd  go  to  ye  wid  me  two  hands." 

Texas  Joe  laughed  outright.  "Let's  have  another 
drink  instead,"  he  said. 

In  the  silence  occasioned  by  the  re-filling  of  their 
glasses  the  two  friends  caught  the  name  of  Jefferson 
Worth.  Instantly  their  attention  was  attracted  to  a 
well-dressed,  smart-looking  stranger,  who  stood  at  the 
bar  talking  loudly  to  a  man  known  to  Rubio  City 
as  a  promoter  of  somewhat  doubtful  mining  schemes. 

58 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

Pat  and  Texas  listened  with  amused  interest  while 
the  two  in  concert  cursed  Jefferson  Worth  with  care 
ful  and  exhaustive  attention  to  details. 

"Go  to  it,  gentlemen!"  put  in  the  bar-keeper,  as 
he  returned  to  his  place  from  the  table  in  the  corner. 
"We-all  sure  endorses  your  opinions.  Have  one  on 
the  house."  He  graciously  helped  them  to  more 
liquor. 

"Brother  Worth  sure  stands  high  with  this  here 
congregation,"  drawled  Texas  Joe  to  his  companion. 

"Hst !"  whispered  Pat.  "They're  askin'  afther  the 
kid."  The  casual,  amused  interest  of  the  two  friends 
became  intense. 

"They  sure  tried  everything  to  find  her  folks,"  the 
saloon  man  was  saying,  "but  there  ain't  nothin'  doin' 
so  far.  They  say  if  nobody  shows  up  with  a  claim 
Jefferson  Worth  is  goin'  to  adopt  her  an'  bring  her 
up  like  his  own." 

This  statement  of  Jefferson  Worth's  intentions 
called  forth  from  the  stranger  an  exhaustive  opinion 
as  to  the  banker's  fitness  to  have  the  child  and  her 
probable  chances  for  right  training  and  happiness  in 
the  financier's  hands.  His  remarks  being  cordially 
commended  by  the  promoter  and  the  man  in  the  white 
apron,  the  speaker  was  encouraged  to  strengthen  his 
position  in  reference  to  the  future  of  this  poor,  help 
less  orphan  and  to  point  out  freely  the  duties  of 
Rubio  City  in  the  matter.  He  was  interrupted  by  a 
light  hand  on  his  shoulder.  Turning  with  a  start 
that  spilled  the  liquor  in  his  glass,  he  looked  into 
the  lean  face  of  Texas  Joe.  Behind  the  plainsman 
stood  the  heavy  form  of  the  Irishman,  a  look  of 

59 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH  N 

pleased  anticipation  on  his  battle-scarred  features. 
There  was  a  sudden  sympathetic  hush  in  the  room. 
Every  face  was  turned  toward  the  group. 

"Excuse  me,  stranger,"  said  Texas,  in  his  softest 
tones;  abut  I  sure  am  moved  to  testify  in  this  here 
meetin'." 

The  man  would  have  made  some  angry,  blustering 
reply,  but  a  warning  look  from  the  promoter  and  a 
slight  cough  from  the  bar-tender  checked  him. 

Tex  proceeded.  "That  you-all  has  rights  to  your 
opinion  regardin'  Mr.  Jefferson  Worth's  character 
I  ain't  denyin',  an'  there's  plenty  in  Eubio  City 
that'll  agree  with  you.  Mebbe  you  has  reasons  for 
feelin'  grieved.  I  don't  sabe  this  here  business  game 
nohow.  Mebbe  you  stacked  the  deck  an'  he  caught 
you  at  it.  You  sure  impresses  me  that  a-way,  for 
I've  noticed  that  it  ain't  the  sport  who  plays  fair  or 
loses  fair  that  squeals  loudest  when  the  cards  are 
agin  him.  But  when  you  touches  on  said  Jefferson 
Worth  an'  the  future  of  that  little  kid,  with  free 
remarks  on  the  duties  of  Eubio  City  regardin'  the 
same,  you're  sure  gettin'  around  where  I  live.  Me 
an'  this  gent  here" — he  waved  his  hand  toward  Pat 
with  elaborate  formality,  to  the  huge  delight  of  his 
audience — "me  an'  this  here  gent  is  first  uncles  to 
that  kid,  an'  any  pop-eyed,  lop-eared,  greasy-fingered 
cross  between  a  coyot'  an'  a  jack-rabbit  that  comes 
a-pouncin'  out  o'  the  wilds  o'  civilization  to  jump 
our  claim  by  makin'  insinuations  that  we  ain't  com 
petent  to  see  that  the  aforementioned  kid  has  proper 
bringin'  up  an'  that  Brother  Worth  ain't  a  proper 
daddy  for  her,  had  best  come  loaded  for  trouble. 

60 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

For  trouble'll  sure  camp  on  his  trail  'til  he's  reformed 
or  heen  safely  planted." 

In  the  significant  pause  that  followed  no  one 
moved.  Texas  stood  easily,  looking  into  the  eyes  of 
the  stranger.  Pat  shot  fierce,  watchful  glances 
around  the  room,  from  face  to  face. 

"I  trust  you  get's  the  force  o'  my  remarks,"  con 
cluded  Texas  suggestively. 

The  stranger  moved  uneasily  and  looked  hurriedly 
about  for  signs  of  sympathy  or  assistance.  Every 
face  was  a  blank.  Texas  waited. 

"I  suppose  I  was  hasty,"  said  the  stranger,  sul 
lenly.  "I  beg  your  pardon,  gentlemen." 

"Consider  the  meet-in'  dismissed,  gentlemen,"  said 
Texas,  easily.  "Me  an'  my  pardner  trusts  that  the 
congregation  will  treasure  our  remarks  in  the  future. 
!N"ow,  you  bar-tender,  everybody  drinks  on  us  to  the 
health  and  happiness  of  our  respected  niece — Miss 
Barbara  Worth." 

On  the  street  a  few  minutes  later  Pat  growled  his 
disappointment.  "The  divil  take  a  man  wid  no 
bowels." 

Ignoring  his  friend's  complaint,  Texas  returned 
meditatively:  "Do  you  think,  Pat,  that  there  might 
be  anything  in  what  that  there  gent  said  ?  In  spite 
o'  what  we  seen  of  him  on  that  trip,  Jefferson  Worth 
is  sure  a  cold  proposition.  Give  it  to  me  straight. 
What  will  he  do  for  the  little  one  ?" 

"An'  it's  just  fwhat  we  see'd  on  that  thrip  that 
makes  me  think  ut's  a  question  av  fwhat  the  little 
girl  will  do  to  him,"  answered  Pat,  thereby  sustain 
ing  the  reputation  of  his  race. 

61 


CHAPTER  IV. 
YOU'D  BETTER  MAKE  IT  NINETY. 

IFTEEN  years  of  a  changing  age  left  few 
marks  on  Rubio  City.  Luxurious  overland 
trains,  filled  with  tourists,  now  stopped  at 
the  depot  where,  under  the  pepper  trees,  sadly  civ 
ilized  Indians  sold  Kansas  City  and  New  Jersey- 
made  curios — stopped  and  went  on  again  along  tHe 
rim  of  The  King's  Basin,  through  San  Antonio 
Pass  to  the  great  cities  on  the  western  edge  of  the 
continent.  But  the  town  on  the  banks  of  the  Colo 
rado,  in  an  almost  rainless  land,  had  little  to  build 
upon.  Still  on  the  street  mingled  the  old-timers 
from  desert,  mountain  and  plain;  from  prospecting 
trip,  mine  or  ranch;  the  adventurer,  the  promoter, 
the  Indian,  the  Mexican,  the  frontier  business  man 
and  the  tourist. 

But  there  were  few  of  the  citizens  of  Rubio  City 
now  who  knew  the  story  of  the  baby  girl  whom 
Jefferson  Worth  and  his  party  had  found  in  La 
Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios.  For,  though  Rubio  City 
was  changed  but  little  since  that  day  when  Texas 
Joe  brought  the  outfit  with  the  child  safely  out  of 
the  Desert,  the  people  came  and  went  always  as  is 
the  manner  of  their  moving  kind.  The  few  "old- 
timers"  who  remained  had  long  ceased  to  tell  the 
story.  No  one  thought  of  the  young  woman,  who 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

rode  down  the  street  that  afternoon,  save  only  as  the 
daughter  of  Jefferson  Worth. 

As  she  passed,  the  people  turned  to  follow  her  with 
their  eyes — the  "old-timers"  with  smiles  of  recog 
nition  and  picturesque  words  of  admiring  comment; 
the  townspeople  with  cheerful  greetings — a  wave  of 
the  hand  or  a  nod  when  they  caught  her  eye;  the 
strangers  from  the  East  with  curious  interest  and 
ready  kodaks.  Here,  the  visitors  told  themselves, 
was  the  real  West. 

"How  interesting!"  gasped  a  tailor-made  woman 
tourist  to  her  escort.  "Look,  George,  she  is  wearing 
a  divided  skirt  and  riding  a  man's  saddle!  And 
look!  quick!  where's  your  camera?  She  has  a 
revolver !" 

That  revolver,  a  dainty  but  effective  pearl-handled 
weapon,  was  a  gift  to  Barbara  from  her  "uncles," 
Texas  and  Pat;  and  though  ornamental  was  not  for 
ornament.  The  girl  often  went  alone,  as  she  was 
going  to-day,  for  a  long  ride  out  on  the  Mesa,  and 
the  country  still  harbored  many  wild  and  lawless 
characters. 

But  the  tailored  woman  tourist  did  not  need  to 
urge  George  to  look.  There  was  something  about  the 
girl  on  the  quick-stepping,  spirited  horse  that  chal 
lenged  attention.  The  khaki-clad  figure  was  so  richly 
alive — there  was  such  a  wealth  of  vitality;  such  an 
abundance  of  young  woman's  strength;  such  a  glow 
of  red  blood  expressed  in  every  curved  line  and 
revealed  in  every  graceful  movement — that  the 
attraction  was  irresistible.  To  look  at  Barbara 
Worth  was  a  pleasure ;  to  be  near  her  was  a  delight. 

63 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

At  the  Pioneer  Bank  the  girl  checked  her  horse 
and,  swinging  lightly  to  the  ground,  threw  the  reins 
over  the  animal's  head,  thus  tying  him  in  western 
fashion.  As  she  stood  now  on  the  sidewalk  laughing 
and  chatting  with  a  group  of  friends,  who  had 
paused  in  passing  to  greet  her,  her  beautiful  figure 
lost  none  of  the  compelling  charm  that  made  her,  on 
horseback,  so  good  to  look  at.  Every  movement  and 
gesture  expressed  perfect  health.  The  firm  flesh  of 
her  rounded  cheeks  and  full  throat  was  warmly 
browned  and  glowing  with  the  abundance  of  red 
blood  in  her  veins.  Though  framed  in  a  mass  of 
waving  brown  hair  under  a  wide  sombrero,  her  fea 
tures  were  not  pretty.  The  mouth  was  perhaps  a 
bit  too  large,  though  it  was  a  good  mouth,  and,  as 
she  laughed  with  her  companions,  revealed  teeth  that 
were  faultless.  But  something  looked  out  of  her 
brown  eyes  and  made  itself  felt  in  every  poise  and 
movement  that  forced  one  to  forget  to  be  critical.  It 
was  the  wholesome,  challenging  lure  of  an  unmarred 
womanhood. 

"Oh,  Barbara,  how  could  you — how  could  you 
miss  last  Thursday  afternoon  at  Miss  Colson's  ?  We 
had  a  perfectly  lovely  time !"  cried  a  vivacious  mem 
ber  of  the  little  group. 

"Yes  indeed,  young  lady;  explanations  are  in 
order,"  added  another.  "Miss  Colson  didn't  like  it 
a  bit.  She  had  an  exquisite  luncheon,  and  you  know 
how  people  depend  upon  your  appreciation  of  good 
things  to  eat !" 

"Well,  you  see,"  answered  Barbara,  turning  to  pat 
her  horse's  neck  as  the  animal,  edging  closer  to  her 

64 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBARA  WORTH 

side,  rubbed  his  soft  muzzle  coaxingly  against  her 
shoulder,  "Pilot  and  I  were  out  on  the  Mesa  and  he 
said  he  didn't  want  to  come  back.  Pilot  doesn't  care 
at  all  for  afternoon  parties,  do  you  old  boy  ?" — with 
another  pat — "so  what  could  I  do  ?  I  didn't  like  to 
hurt  Miss  Colson's  feelings,  of  course,  but  I  didn't 
like  to  hurt  Pilot's  feelings  either;  and  the  day  was 
so  perfect  and  Pilot  was  feeling  so  good  and  we  were 
having  such  fun  together!  I  guess  it  was  a  case  of 
'a  bird  in  the  hand,'  or  'possession  being  nine  points/ 
you  know;  or  something  like  that.  Only  for  pity's 
sake,  girls,  don't  tell  Miss  Colson  I  said  that." 

They  all  laughed  understandingly  and  the  viva 
cious  one  said :  "I  guess  it  was  possession  all  right. 
Could  anything  on  earth  induce  you  to  give  up  your 
horse  and  your  desert,  Barbara  ?" 

Inside  the  bank  Jefferson  Worth,  with  his  cus 
tomary  careful,  exact  manner,  was  explaining  to  a 
small  rancher  that  it  was  impossible  to  extend  the 
loan  secured  by  a  mortgage  on  the  farmer's  property. 
Personally  Mr.  Worth  would  be  glad  to  accommodate 
him.  But  the  loan  had  already  been  extended  three- 
times  and  there  were  good  reasons  why  the  bank  must 
call  it  in.  The  farmer  must  remember  that  a  bank's 
duty  to  its  stockholders  and  depositors  was  sacred. 
It  was  not  a  question  of  the  farmer's  honesty ;  it  was 
altogether  a  question  of  Good  Business. 

The  farmer  was  agitated  and  presented  his  case 
desperately.  Mr.  Worth  knew  the  situation — the 
unforeseen  circumstances  that  made  it  impossible  for 
him  to  pay  then.  Only  two  months  more  were  needed 
— until  his  new  crop  matured.  He  could  not  blame 

65 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

Mr.  Worth,  of  course.  He  understood  that  it  was 
business,  but  still —  The  farmer  searched  that  cold, 
mask-like  face  for  a  ray  of  hope  as  a  man  might  hold 
out  his  hands  for  pity  to  a  machine.  He  was  made 
to  feel  somehow  that  the  banker  was  not  a  man  with 
human  blood,  but  a  mechanical  something,  governed 
and  run  by  a  mighty  irresistible  power  with  which 
it  had  nothing  to  do  save  to  obey  as  a  locomotive 
obeys  its  steam. 

Jefferson  Worth  began  explaining  again  in  exact, 
precise  tones  that  the  loan,  wholly  for  business 
reasons,  was  impossible,  when  Barbara  entered  the 
bank.  As  the  girl  greeted  the  teller  in  front,  her 
voice,  full  and  rich,  with  the  same  unconscious  power 
that  looked  out  of  her  eyes  and  spoke  in  every  move 
ment  of  her  body,  came  through  the  bronze  grating 
at  the  window  and  carried  down  the  room.  Jefferson 
Worth  paused.  With  the  farmer  he  faced  the  open 
door  of  his  apartment.  Every  man  in  the  place 
looked  up.  The  desk-weary  clerks  smilingly  answered 
her  greeting  and  turned  back  to  their  books  with 
renewed  energy.  The  cashier  straightened  up  from 
his  papers  and — leaning  back  in  his  chair — ex 
changed  a  jest  with  her  as  she  passed. 

"Oh,  excuse  me,  father,  I  thought  you  were  alone. 
How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Wheeler  ?  And  how  is  Mrs, 
Wheeler  and  that  dear  little  baby  ?" 

The  man's  face  lighted,  his  form  straightened,  his 
voice  rang  out  heartily.  "Fine,  Miss  Barbara,  fine, 
thank  you.  All  we  need  in  the  world  now  is  for 
your  father  to  give  me  time  enough  on  that  blamed 
note  to  make  a  crop." 

66 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

Barbara  Worth  was  just  tall  enough  to  look 
straight  into  her  father's  eyes.  As  she  looked  at  him 
now  the  banker  felt  a  little  as  he  had  felt  that  night 
in  the  Desert,  when  the  baby,  whose  dead  mother 
lay  beside  the  dry  water  hole,  shrank  back  from  him 
in  fear. 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  father  will  be  glad  to  do  that,"  the 
girl  said  eagerly.  "Won't  you  father?  You  know 
how  hard  Mr.  Wheeler  works  and  what  trouble  he 
has  had.  And  I  want  some  money,  too,"  she  added ; 
''that's  what  I  came  in  for." 

The  farmer  laughed  loudly.  Jefferson  Worth 
smiled. 

"But  I  don't  want  it  for  myself,"  Barbara  went 
on  quickly,  smiling  at  them  both.  "I  want  it  for 
that  poor  Mexican  family  down  by  the  wagon  yard 
— the  Garcias.  Pablo's  leg  was  broken  in  the  mines, 
you  know,  and  there  is  no  one  to  look  after  his  mother 
and  the  children.  Someone  must  care  for  them." 

They  were  interrupted  by  a  clerk  who  handed  a 
paper  to  the  banker.  "This  is  ready  for  your 
signature,  sir." 

Jefferson  Worth's  face  was  again  a  cold,  gray 
mask.  Methodically  he  affixed  his  name  to  the  docu 
ment.  Then  to  the  clerk:  "You  may  give  Miss 
Worth  whatever  money  she  wants." 

The  employe  smiled  as  he  answered:  "Yes,  sir," 
and  withdrew. 

Barbara  turned  to  follow.  "Good-by,  Mr.  Wheeler. 
Tell  Mrs.  Wheeler  I'm  going  to  ride  out  to  see  her 
soon.  I  haven't  forgotten  that  good  buttermilk  you 


see." 


G7 


THE  WIOTO2TG  OF  BAEBAEA  WORTH 

"Good-by,  Miss  Barbara,  good-by!  I'll  tell  the 
wife.  We're  always  glad  to  see  you." 

The  farmer  could  not  have  said  that  Jefferson 
Worth's  face  changed  or  that  his  voice  altered  a  shade 
in  tone  as  they  turned  again  to  the  business  in  hand. 
"I  guess  we  can  fix  you  out  this  time,  Wheeler. 
Sixty  days,  you  say?  You'd  better  make  it  ninety 
so  you  will  not  be  crowded  in  marketing  your  crop." 

Quickly  the  black  horse  carrying  Barbara  passed 
through  the  streets  to  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  where 
the  adobe  houses  of  the  earlier  days,  with  tents  and 
shacks  of  every  description,  were  scattered  in  careless 
disorder  to  the  very  edge  of  the  barren  Mesa.  Beyond 
the  wagon  yard  Barbara  turned  Pilot  toward  a  white 
washed  house  that  stood  by  itself  on  the  extreme 
outskirts.  Her  approach  was  announced  by  the  loud 
barking  of  a  lean  dog  and  the  joyful  shouts  of  three 
half-naked  Mexican  children;  and  as  the  horse 
stopped  a  woman  appeared  in  the  low  doorway. 

"Buenas  dias,  Senorita,"  she  called;  then,  still  in 
her  native  tongue:  "Manuel,  take  the  lady's  horse. 
You  Juanita,  drive  that  clog  away.  This  is  not  the 
manner  to  receive  a  lady.  Come  in,  come  in,  Senorita. 
May  God  bless  you  for  a  good  friend  to  the  poor. 
Come  in." 

Everything  about  the  place,  although  showing  un 
mistakable  signs  of  poverty,  was  clean  and  orderly, 
while  the  manner  of  the  woman,  though  quietly 
respectful  and  warmly  grateful,  showed  a  dignified 
self-respect.  In  one  corner  of  the  room,  on  a  rude 
bed,  lay  a  young  man. 

The  girl  returned  the  woman's  greeting  kindly  in 

G8 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Spanish  and,  going  to  the  bedside,  spoke,  still  in  the 
soft,  musical  tongue  of  the  South,  to  the  man.  "How 
are  you  to-day,  Pablo  ?  Is  the  leg  getting  better  all 
right  ?" 

uSi,  Senorita,  thank  you/'  he  replied,  his  dark 
face  beaming  with  gladness  and  gratitude  and  his 
eyes  looking  up  at  her  with  an  expression  of  dumb 
devotion.  "Yes,  I  think  it  gets  better  right  along. 
But  it  is  slow  and  it  is  hard  to  lie  here  doing  nothing 
for  the  mother  and  the  children.  God  knows  what 
would  become  of  us  if  it  were  not  for  your  goodness. 
La  Senorita  is  an  angel  of  mercy.  We  can  never 
repay." 

The  people  were  of  the  better  class  of  industrious 
poor  Mexicans.  The  father  was  dead,  and  Pablo, 
the  eldest  son,  who  was  the  little  family's  sole  sup 
port,  had  been  hurt  in  the  mine  some  tAVO  weeks 
before.  Barbara  visited  them  every  few  days,  caring 
for  their  wants  as  indeed  she  helped  many  of  Rubio 
City's  worthy  poor.  For  this  work  Jefferson  Worth 
gave  her  without  question  all  the  money  that  she 
asked  and  often  expressed  his  interest  in  his  own 
cold  way,  even  telling  her  of  certain  cases  that  came 
to  his  notice  from  time  to  time.  So  the  banker's 
daughter  was  hailed  as  an  angel  of  mercy  and  greatly 
loved  by  the  same  class  that  feared  and  cursed  her 
father. 

For  a  little  while  the  girl  talked  to  Pablo  and  his 
mother  cheerfully  and  encouragingly,  with  under 
standing  asking  after  their  needs.  Then,  placing  a 
gold  piece  in  the  woman's  hand  and  promising  to 
come  again,  she  bade  them — "Adios." 

CO 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

For  a  short  distance  Barbara  now  followed  the  old 
San  Felipe  trail  along  which,  as  a  baby,  she  had 
been  brought  by  her  friends  to  Jefferson  Worth's 
home.  But  where  the  old  road  crosses  the  railroad 
tracks,  and  leads  northwest  into  The  King's  Basin, 
the  girl  turned  to  the  right  toward  the  end  of  that 
range  of  low  hills  that  rims  the  Desert. 

As  her  horse  traveled  up  the  long  gradual  slope 
in  the  easy  swinging  lope  of  western  saddle  stock,  the 
view  grew  wider  and  wider.  The  sun  poured  its 
flood  of  white  light  down  upon  the  broad  Mesa,  and 
away  in  the  distance  the  ever-widening  King's  Basin 
lay,  a  magic,  constantly  changing  ocean  of  soft  colors. 
Nearer  ahead  were  the  hills,  brown  and  tawny,  with 
blue  shadows  in  the  canyons  shading  to  rose  and 
lilac  and  purple  as  they  stretched  their  long  lengths 
away  toward  the  lofty,  snow-capped  sentinels  of  the 
Pass.  Free  from  the  city  with  its  many  odors,  the 
dry  air  was  invigorating  like  wine  and  came  to  her 
rich  with  the  smell  of  the  sun-burned,  wind-swept 
plains.  The  girl  breathed  deeply.  Her  cheeks 
glowed — her  eyes  shone.  Even  her  horse,  seeming 
to  catch  her  spirit,  arched  his  neck  and,  in  sheer  joy 
of  living,  pretended  to  be  frightened  now  and  then  at 
something  that  was  really  nothing  at  all. 

At  the  foot  of  the  first  low,  rounded  hill  Barbara 
faced  Pilot  to  the  northwest  and  bade  him  stand 
still.  Motionless  now  the  girl  sat  in  her  saddle, 
looking  away  over  La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios. 
It  was  to  this  point  that  Barbara  so  often  came,  and 
as  she  looked  now  over  the  miles  and  miles  of  that 
silent,  dreadful  land  her  face  grew  sad  and  wistful 

70 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

and  in  her  eyes  there  was  an  expression  that  the 
Seer  sometimes  said  made  him  think  of  the  desert. 
Gentle  Mrs.  Worth  had  lived  just  long  enough  to 
leave  an  indelible  impression  of  her  simple  genuine 
ness  upon  the  life  of  the  child,  who  had  come  to 
take  in  her  heart  the  place  left  vacant  by  the  death  of 
her  own  baby  girl.  Since  the  loss  of  her  second 
mother  the  girl  had  lived  with  no  woman  companion 
save  the  Indian  woman  Ynez,  and  it  was  the  Seer 
rather  than  Jefferson  Worth  to  whom  she  turned  in 
fullest  confidence  and  trust.  The  childish  instinct 
that  had  led  the  baby  to  the  big  engineer's  arms  that 
night  on  the  Desert  had  never  wavered  through  the 
years  when  she  was  growing  into  womanhood,  and 
the  Seer,  whose  work  after  the  completion  of  the 
S.  and  C.  called  him  to  many  parts  of  the  West, 
managed  every  few  months  a  visit  to  the  girl  he 
loved  as  his  own.  To  Mr.  Worth  who,  as  far  as  it 
was  possible  for  him  to  be,  was  in  all  things  a  father 
to  her,  Barbara  gave  in  return  a  daughter's  love,  but 
she  had  never  been  able  to  enter  into  the  life  of  the 
banker  as  she  entered  into  the  life  of  the  engineer. 
So  it  was  the  Seer  who  became,  after  Mrs.  Worth, 
the  dominant  influence  in  forming  the  character  of 
the  motherless  girl.  His  dreams  of  Reclamation, 
his  plans  and  efforts  to  lead  the  world  to  recognize 
the  value  of  that  great  work,  with  his  failures  and 
disappointments,  she  shared  at  an  early  age  with 
peculiar  sympathy,  for  she  had  not  been  kept  in 
ignorance  of  the  tragic  part  the  desert  had  played 
in  her  own  life.  Particularly  did  The  King's  Basin 
Desert  interest  her.  She  felt  that,  in  a  way,  it  be- 

71 


THE  wijornra  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

longed  to  her;  that  she  belonged  to  it.  It  was  her 
Desert.  Its  desolation  she  shared;  its  waiting  she 
understood;  something  of  its  mystery  colored  her 
life;  something  within  her  answered  to  its  call.  It 
was  her  Desert;  she  feared  it;  hated  it;  loved  it. 

Often  as  Barbara  sat  looking  over  that  great  basin 
her  heart  cried  out  to  know  the  secret  it  held.  Who 
was  she?  Who  were  her  people?  What  was  the 
name  to  which  she  had  been  born  ?  What  was  the 
life  from  which  the  desert  had  taken  her?  But  no 
answer  to  her  cry  had  ever  come  from  the  awful 
"Hollow  of  God's ^Hand." 

Before  Barbara  had  left  her  home  that  afternoon 
a  man,  walking  with  long,  easy  stride,  followed  the 
San  Felipe  trail  out  from  the  city  on  to  the  Mesa. 
He  was  a  tall  man  and  of  so  angular  and  lean  a  figure 
that  his  body  seemed  made  up  mostly  of  bone  some 
what  loosely  fastened  together  with  sinews  almost  as 
hard  as  the  frame-work.  His  face,  thin  and  rugged, 
was  burned  to  the  color  of  saddle  leather.  He  was 
dressed  in  corduroy  trousers,  belted  and  tucked  in 
high-laced  boots,  a  soft  gray  shirt  and  slouch  hat, 
and  over  his  square  shoulders  was  the  strap  of  a  small 
canteen.  His  long  legs  carried  him  over  the  ground 
at  an  astonishing  rate,  so  that  before  Barbara  had 
left  the  Mexicans  the  pedestrian  had  gained  the  foot 
of  the  low  hill  at  the  mouth  of  the  canyon. 

With  remarkable  ease  the  man  ascended  the  rough, 
steep  side  of  the  hill,  where,  selecting  a  convenient 
rock,  he  seated  himself  and  gave  his  attention  to  the 
wonderful  scene  that,  from  his  feet,  stretched  away 
miles  and  miles  to  the  purple  mountain  wall  on  the 

T2 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

west.  So  still  was  he  and  so  intent  in  his  study  of 
the  landscape,  that  a  horned-toad,  which  had  dodged 
under  the  edge  of  the  rock  at  his  approach,  crept 
forth  again,  venturing  quite  to  the  edge  of  his  boot 
heel;  and  a  lizard,  scaling  the  rock  at  his  back, 
almost  touched  his  shoulder. 

When  Barbara  had  left  the  San  Felipe  trail  and 
was  riding  toward  the  hills,  the  man's  eyes  were 
attracted  by  the  moving  spot  on  the  Mesa  and  he 
stirred  to  take  from  the  pocket  of  his  coat  a  field 
glass,  while  at  his  movement  the  horned-toad  and 
the  lizard  scurried  to  cover.  Adjusting  his  glass  he 
easily  made  out  the  figure  of  the  girl  on  horseback, 
who  was  coming  in  his  direction.  He  turned  again 
to  his  study  of  the  landscape,  but  later,  when  the 
horse  and  rider  had  drawn  nearer,  lifted  his  glass 
for  another  look.  This  time  he  did  not  turn  away. 

Rapidly,  as  Barbara  drew  nearer  and  nearer,  the 
details  of  her  dress  and  equipment  became  more 
distinct  until  the  man  with  the  glass  could  even  make 
out  the  fringe  on  her  gauntlets,  the  contour  of  her 
face  and  the  color  of  her  hair.  When  she  stopped 
arid  turned  to  look  over  the  desert  below  he  forgot 
the  scene  that  had  so  interested  him  and  continued 
to  gaze  at  her,  until,  as  the  girl  turned  her  face 
in  his  direction  and  apparently  looked  straight  at 
him,  he  dropped  the  glass  in  embarrassed  confusion, 
forgetting  for  the  instant  that  at  that  distance,  with 
his  gray  and  yellow  clothing  so  matching  the  ground 
and  rock,  he  would  not  be  noticed.  With  a  low 
chuckle  at  his  absurd  situation  he  recovered  himself 
and  again  lifting  the  glass  turned  it  upon  Barbara, 

73 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

who  was  now  riding  swiftly  toward  the  mouth  of  a 
little  canyon  that  opened  behind  the  hill  where  he 
sat. 

Suddenly  with  an  exclamation  the  young  man 
sprang  to  his  feet.  The  running  horse  had  stumbled 
and  fallen.  After  a  few  struggling  efforts  to  rise 
the  animal  lay  still.  The  girl  did  not  move.  With 
long,  leaping  strides  the  man  plunged  down  the 
rough,  steep  side  of  the  hill. 

When  Barbara  slowly  opened  her  eyes  she  was 
lying  in  the  shadow  of  the  canyon  wall  some  distance 
from  the  spot  where  her  horse  had  stumbled.  Still 
dazed  with  the  shock  of  her  fall  she  looked  slowly 
around,  striving  to  collect  her  scattered  senses.  She 
knew  the  place  but  could  not  remember  how  she  came 
there.  And  where  was  her  horse — Pilot  ?  And  how 
came  that  canteen  on  the  ground  by  her  side  ?  At 
this  she  sat  up  and  looked  around  just  in  time  to  see 
a  tall,  gaunt,  roughly-dressed  figure  coming  toward 
her  from  the  direction  of  the  canyon  mouth. 

Instantly  the  girl  reached  for  her  gun.  The 
holster  was  empty. 

The  man,  quite  close  now,  seeing  the  suggestive 
gesture,  halted;  then,  coming  nearer,  silently  held 
out  her  own  pearl-handled  revolver. 

Still  confused  and  acting  upon  the  impulse  of  the 
moment  before,  Barbara  caught  the  weapon  from  the 
out-stretched  hand  and  in  a  flash  covered  the  silent 
stranger. 

Very  deliberately  the  fellow  drew  back  a  few  paces 
and  stretched  both  hands  high  above  his  head. 

"Who  are  you  ?"  asked  the  girl  sharply. 

74 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"A  white  man/'  he  answered  whimsically,  adding 
as  if  it  were  an  afterthought,  "and  a  gentleman." 

"But  why What How  did  I  get  here  ? 

Where  did  you  come  from  ?" 

"I  was  up  on  the  hill  back  there.  I  saw  your 
horse  fall  and  went  to  you  the  quickest  way.  You 
were  unconscious  and  I  carried  you  here  out  of  the 


sun." 


"I  remember  now/'  said  Barbara.  "We  were 
running  and  Pilot  fell.  He  must  have  stepped  into 
a  hole."  She  put  up  her  free  hand  to  her  forehead 
and  found  it  wet.  Her  eyes  fell  on  the  canteen  and 
the  color  came  back  into  her  face  with  a  rush.  "But 
you  haven't  told  me  who  you  are,"  she  said  sternly 
to  the  man  who  still  stood  with  hands  uplifted. 

"I'm  a  surveyor  going  south  with  a  party  on  some 
preliminary  work.  We  arrived  in  Rubio  City  this 
morning  expecting  to  find  the  Chief,  who  wrote  me. 
from  New  York  to  meet  him  here  with  an  outfit.  He 
has  not  arrived  and  there  was  nothing  to  do  so  I 
walked  out  on  the  Mesa  to  have  another  look  at  this 
King's  Basin  country." 

Barbara  knew  that  the  Seer  had  been  called  to  New 
York  by  some  capitalists  who  had  become  interested 
in  the  financial  possibilities  of  the  reclamation  work. 
At  the  stranger's  explanation  of  his  presence  she 
regarded  him  with  excited  interest.  "Do  you  mean 

Is  it  the  Seer  whom  you  expected  to  meet? 

Are  you — with  him  ?" 

The  young  man  smiled  gravely.  "I  was  sure  that 
it  was  you,"  he  answered.  "You  are  the  little  girl 
whom  we  found  in  the  desert." 

75 


THE  WIKN1XG  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

"And  you" — burst  forth  Barbara,  eagerly — "you 
must  be  Abe  Lee !" 

The  surveyor  answered  whimsically:  "Don't  you 
think  I  might  take  my  hands  down  now?  I'm 
unarmed  you  know  and  you  could  still  shoot  me  if 
you  thought  I  needed  it." 

In  her  excitement  Barbara  had  forgotten  that  she 
still  held  her  weapon  pointed  straight  at  him.  She 
dropped  the  gun  with  a  confused  laugh.  "I  beg  your 
pardon,  A —  Mr.  Lee.  I  did  not  realize  that  I  was 
holding  up  my" — she  hesitated,  then  finished  gravely 
— "my  only  brother." 

A  quick  glad  light  flashed  into  the  sharp  blue  eyes 
of  the  surveyor.  "You  have  not  forgotten  me  then  ?" 

"Forgotten !  When  father  and  the  Seer  and  Texas 
and  Pat  and  you  are  all  the — the  family  I  have  in 
the  world."  Her  lips  quivered,  but  she  went  on 
bravely:  "The  Seer  has  told  me  so  many  things 
about  you  and  I  have  thought  about  you  so  much. 
But  I  did  not  realize,  though,  that  you  were  a  big, 
grown-up  man.  The  Seer  always  speaks  of  you  as 
a  boy  and  so  I  have  always  called  you  my  brother 
Abe  as  I  call  Texas  and  Pat  my  uncles.  But  I 
think  you  might  have  come  to  see  me  sometimes. 
Why  didn't  you  come  straight  to  me  this  morning 
instead  of  tramping  'way  out  here  alone  ?" 

Abe  lee  was  silent.  How  could  he  explain  the 
place  in  his  life  that  was  filled  by  the  little  girl  whom 
he  had  known  for  the  two  years  that  the  building  of 
the  railroad  had  kept  him  with  the  Seer  in  Rubio 
City?  How  could  she  understand  the  poverty  and 
grinding  hardship  of  his  boyhood  struggle  when  the 

76 


THE  WnOJTDfG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

only  time  he  could  snatch  from  his  work  he  must 
spend  on  his  books,  while  she  was  growing  up  in  the 
banker's  home  ?  He  was  more  alone  in  the  world 
than  Barbara.  Save  for  the  Seer  he  had  no  one. 
Texas  and  Pat  he  had  met  at  intervals  when  they 
came  together  on  some  construction  work,  and  always 
they  had  talked  about  her;  while  the  engineer  had 
often  told  him  of  Barbara's  interest  in  her  "brother' ; 
and  sometimes  the  Seer  even  shared  with  him  her 
letters.  But  all  this  had  only  served  to  emphasize  the 
distance  that  lay  between  them.  It  was  not  a  distance 
of  miles  but  of  position — of  circumstances.  The 
nameless  little  waif  of  the  desert  had  become  the 
daughter  of  Jefferson  Worth.  The  child  of  the 
mining  camp  was — Abe  Lee.  So  when,  at  last,  his 
work  had  brought  him  to  Rubio  City  again  he  shrank 
from  meeting  her  and  had  gone  out  on  to  the  Mesa 
to  look  away  over  La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios — 
to  be  alone. 

Barbara,  seeing  his  embarrassment  at  her  question, 
guessed  a  part  of  the  reason  and  gently  sought  to 
relieve  the  situation.  "I  think  we  had  better  find 
my  horse  and  start  for  home  now."  she  said. 

The  thin,  sun-tanned  face  ol  the  surveyor  was 
filled  with  sympathy  as  he  replied :  "I'm  sorry,  but 
your  pony  is  down  and  out." 

"Down  and  out !  Pilot  ?  Oh !  you  don't  mean — 
You  don't " 

Abe  explained  simply.  "His  leg  was  broken  and 
he  couldn't  get  up.  There  was  nothing  that  could 
possibly  be  done  for  him.  He  was  suffering  so  that 
I It  was  for  that  I  borrowed  your  gun." 

77 


THE  WIHSESTG  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETII 

For  a  long  time  she  sat  very  still,  and  the  man, 
understanding  that  she  wished  to  be  alone,  quietly 
went  a  little  way  up  the  canyon  around  the  jutting 
edge  of  the  rocky  wall.  Deliberately  he  seated  him 
self  on  a  boulder  and  taking  from  the  pocket  of  his 
flannel  shirt  tobacco  and  papers,  rolled  a  cigarette. 
A  deep  inhalation  and  the  gray  cloud  rose  slowly 
from  his  lips  and  nostrils.  Stooping  he  carefully 
gathered  a  handful  of  sharp  pebbles  and — one  by  one 
— flipped  them  idly  toward  the  opposite  side  of  the 
canyon.  Another  generous  puff  of  smoke  and  a 
second  handful  of  pebbles  followed  the  first.  Then 
rising  he  dropped  the  cigarette  and  went  back  to  her. 

"I  think  we  should  be  going  now" — he  hesitated — 
"sister." 

She  looked  up  with  a  smile  of  understanding. 
"Thank  you — Abe.  Can  we  go  back  over  the  hill 
there,  do  you  think?  I — I  don't  want  to  see  him 
again." 

Together  they  climbed  the  low  hill  at  the  mouth 
of  the  canyon  from  which  he  had  seen  the  accident, 
the  girl  resolutely  keeping  her  eyes  fixed  ahead  so  as 
not  to  see  the  dead  horse  on  the  plain  below.  When 
the  top  of  the  hill  was  between  them  and  the  canyon 
she  made  him  stop  and  together  they  stood  looking 
down  and  far  away  over  the  wide  reaches  of  The 
King's  Basin. 

"Isn't  it  grand  ?  Isn't  it  awful  ?"  she  said  in  a 
low,  reverent  tone.  "It  fairly  hurts.  It  seems  to  be 
calling — calling;  waiting — waiting  for  some  one. 
Sometimes  I  think  it  must  be  for  me.  I  fear  it — 
hate  it — love  it  so."  Her  voice  vibrated  with  strong 

78 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

passion  and  the  surveyor,  looking  up,  saw  her  wide- 
eyed,  intense  expression  and  felt  as  did  the  Seer  that 
somehow  she  was  like  the  desert. 

"Do  you  come  out  here  often  ?"  he  asked  curiously. 

"Yes,  often/7  she  answered.  "I  could  not  get 
along  without  my  Desert  and  this  is  the  finest  place 
to  see  it.  The  Seer  always  comes  out  here  with  me 
when  he  can.  Do  you  think  that  land  will  ever  be 
reclaimed?"  She  faced  him  with  the  question. 

"Why,  no  one  can  say  about  that,  you  know,"  he 
answered  slowly.  "There  has  never  been  a  survey." 

"Well,"  she  declared  emphatically,  "I  know.  It 
will  be.  Listen!  Don't  you  hear  it  calling?  I 
think  it's  for  that  it  has  been  waiting  all  these  ages." 

The  surveyor  smiled  as  one  would  humor  a  child. 
"Perhaps  you  are  right,"  he  said. 

"Now  you  are  laughing  at  me,"  she  returned 
quickly.  "They  all  do;  father  and  the  Seer  and 
Texas  and  Pat.  But  you  shall  see!  I  believe, 
though,  that  the  Seer  thinks  that  I  am  right,  only  he 
always  says  as  you  do  that  there  has  never  been  a 
survey;  and  sometimes  I  think  that  even  father — 
away  down  in  his  heart — believes  it  too." 

All  the  long  walk  to  Barbara's  home  they  talked 
of  the  Desert  and  the  Seer's  dreams  of  Reclamation ; 
and  Abe  told  her  how  at  last  those  "stupid  capital 
ists,"  as  Barbara  called  them,  had  opened  their  eyes. 
The  great  James  Greenfield  himself  had  read  an 
article  of  the  Seer's  on  "Reclamation  from  the  In 
vestor's  Point  of  View"  and  had  written  him.  As  a 
result  of  their  correspondence  the  engineer  had  gone 
to  New  York;  and  now  a  company  organized  by 
Greenfield  was  sending  him  south  to  look  over  a  big 

79 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

territory  and  to  report  on  the  possibilities  of  its 
development. 

When  they  arrived  at  Barbara's  home  they  found 
the  Seer  himself.  The  fifteen  years  had  made  no 
perceptible  change  in  the  general  appearance  of  the 
engineer.  His  form  was  still  strongly  erect  and  vigor 
ous,  but  his  hair  was  a  little  gray,  and  to  a  close 
observer,  his  face  in  repose  revealed  a  touch  of  sad 
ness — that  indescribable  look  of  one  who  is  beginning 
to  feel  less  sure  of  himself,  or  rather  who,  from  many 
disappointments,  is  beginning  to  question  whether  he 
will  live  to  see  his  most  cherished  plans  carried  to 
completion — not  because  he  has  less  faith  in  his 
visions,  but  because  he  has  less  hope  that  he  will 
be  able  to  make  them  clear  to  others. 

When  the  evening  meal  was  over  the  surveyor 
said  good-by,  for  the  expedition  was  to  start  in  the 
morning  and  he  had  some  work  to  do.  When  he 
was  gone  Barbara  joined  her  father  and  the  engineer 
on  the  porch.  "Here  they  are,"  she  said.  "Haven't 
I  kept  them  nicely  for  you?"  She  was  holding 
toward  the  Seer  a  box  of  cigars. 

"'Indeed  you  have,"  returned  the  engineer  in  a 
pleased  tone,  helping  himself  to  a  cool,  moist  Havana. 
"You  are  a  dear,  good  girl." 

Jefferson  Worth  did  not  use  tobacco,  but  it  was  an 
unwritten  law  of  the  household  that  the  Seer,  when 
he  came,  should  always  have  his  evening  smoke  on 
the  porch  and  that  Barbara  should  be  the  keeper  of 
supplies.  She  liked  to  see  her  friend's  strong  face 
brought  suddenly  out  of  the  dusk  by  the  flare  of  the 
match  and  to  watch  the  glow  of  the  cigar  end  in  the 
dark  while  they  talked. 

SO 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  your  brother  Abe, 
Barbara?'7  the  big  engineer  asked  when  his  cigar 
was  going  nicely.  "Didn't  he  talk  you  nearly  to 
death?" 

The  girl  laughed.  "I  guess  he  didn't  have  a 
chance.  I  always  do  most  of  the  talking,  you  know." 

The  Seer  chuckled.  "Abe  told  me  once  that  most 
of  the  time  he  felt  like  an  oyster  and  the  rest  of  the 
time  he  was  so  mad  at  himself  for  being  an  oyster 
that  he  couldn't  find  words  to  do  the  subject  justice." 

"I  think  he  is  splendid!"  retorted  Barbara,  en 
thusiastically. 

"He  is,"  returned  the  engineer  earnestly.  "I 
don't  know  of  a  man  in  the  profession  whom  I  would 
rely  upon  so  wholly  in  work  of  a  certain  kind.  You 
see  Abe  was  born  and  raised  in  the  wild,  uncivilized 
parts  of  the  country  and  he  has  a  natural  ability  for 
his  work  that  amounts  almost  to  genius.  With  a 
knowledge  of  nature  gained  through  his  remarkable 
powers  of  observation  and  deduction,  I  doubt  if  Abe 
Lee  to-day  has  an  equal  as  what  might  be  called  a 
'surveyor  scout.'  I  believe  he  is  made  of  iron. 
Hunger,  cold,  thirst,  heat,  wet,  seem  to  make  no 
impression  on  him.  He  can  out-walk,  out- work,  out 
last  and  out-guess  any  man  I  ever  met.  He  has  the 
instinct  of  a  wild  animal  for  finding  his  way  and 
the  coldest  nerve  I  ever  saw.  His  honesty  and  loy 
alty  amount  almost  to  fanaticism.  But  he  is  diffi 
dent  and  shy  as  a  school  girl  and  as  sensitive  as  a 
bashful  boy.  I  verily  believe  he  knows  more  to-day 
about  the  great  engineering  projects  in  the  West  than 
nine-tenths  of  the  school  men  but  I've  seen  him  sit 
for  an  hour  absolutely  dumb,  half  scared  to  death, 

81 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

listening  to  the  cheap  twaddle  of  some  smart  'yellow- 
legs'  with  the  ink  not  dry  yet  on  their  diplomas.  Put 
him  in  the  field  in  charge  of  a  party  of  that  same 
bunch,  though,  and  he  would  be  boss  to  the  last  stake 
on  the  line  or  the  last  bite  of  grub  in  the  outfit  if  he 
had  to  kill  half  of  them  to  do  it.  I  guess  you'll 
think  I'm  a  bit  enthusiastic  about  my  right  hand 
man,"  he  finished,  with  a  short,  apologetic  laugh, 
"and  I  am.  It's  because  I  know  him." 

He  struck  another  match  and  Barbara  saw  his 
face  for  an  instant.  As  the  match  went  out  she 
drew  a  long  breath.  "I'm  glad  you  said  that,"  she 
said  softly.  "I  wanted  you  to.  I'm  sure  he  has 
earned  it." 

Then  they  talked  of  the  Seer's  new  expedition  that 
would  start  south  at  daybreak,  and  it  seemed  to  Bar 
bara  that  the  very  air  was  electric  with  the  coming 
of  a  mighty  age  when  the  race  would  direct  its 
strength  to  the  turning  of  millions  of  acres  of  deso 
late,  barren  waste  into  productive  farms  and  beauti 
ful  homes  for  the  people. 

At  daybreak  the  girl  was  up  to  tell  the  Seer 
good-by.  "I  wish,"  she  said  wistfully,  as  she  stood 
with  him  a  moment  at  the  gate,  "I  wish  it  was  my 
Desert  that  you  and  Abe  were  going  to  survey." 

The  engineer  smilingly  answered:  "Some  day, 
perhaps,  that,  too,  will  come." 

"I  know  it  will,"  she  said  simply. 

And  as  she  stood  before  him  in  all  the  beautiful 
strength  of  her  young  womanhood,  the  Seer  felt  that 
sweet,  mysterious  power  of  her  personality — felt  it 
with  a  father's  loving  pride.  "I  believe  you  do  know, 
Barbara,"  he  said ;  "I  believe  you  do." 

82 


CHAPTEK  V. 
WHAT  THE  INDIAN  TOLD  THE  SEER. 

\"N  the  making  of  Barbara's  Desert  the  canyon- 
carving,  delta-building  river  did  not  count 
the  centuries  of  its  labor;  the  rock-hewing, 
beach-forming  waves  did  not  number  the  ages  of  their 
toil ;  the  burning,  constant  sun  and  the  drying,  drift 
ing  winds  were  not  careful  for  the  years.  Therefore 
is  the  time  of  the  real  beginning  of  what  happened 
in  this,  the  land  of  my  story,  unknown. 

Somewhere  in  the  eternity  that  lies  back  of  all  the. 
yesterdays,  the  great  river  found  the  salt  waves  of 
the  ocean  fathoms  deep  in  what  is  now  The  King's 
Basin  and  extending  a  hundred  and  seventy  miles 
north  of  the  shore  that  takes  their  wash  to-day. 
Slowly,  through  the  centuries  of  that  age  of  all 
beginnings,  the  river,  cutting  canyons  and  valleys  in 
the  north  and  carrying  southward  its  load  of  silt, 
built  from  the  east  across  the  gulf  to  Lone  Mountain 
a  mighty  delta  dam. 

South  of  this  new  land  the  ocean  still  received  the 
river ;  to  the  north  the  gulf  became  an  inland  sea. 
The  upper  edge  of  this  new-born  sea  beat  helpless 
against  a  line  of  low,  barren  hills  beyond  which  lay 
many  miles  of  a  rainless  land.  Eastward  lay  yet 
more  miles  of  desolate  waste.  And  between  this  sea 
and  the  parent  ocean  on  the  west,  extending  south- 

83 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

ward  past  the  delta  dam,  the  mountains  of  the  Coast 
Range  shut  out  every  moisture-laden  cloud  and  turned 
back  every  life-bearing  stream.  Thus  trapped  and 
helpless,  the  bright  waters,  with  all  their  life,  fell 
under  the  constant,  fierce,  beating  rays  of  the  semi- 
tropical  sun  and  shrank  from  the  wearing  sweep  of 
the  dry,  tireless  winds.  Uncounted  still,  the  cen 
turies  of  that  age  also  passed  and  the  bottom  of  that 
sea  lay  bare,  dry  and  lifeless  under  the  burning 
sky,  still  beaten  by  the  pitiless  sun,  still  swept  by  the 
scorching  winds.  The  place  that  had  held  the  glad 
waters  with  their  teeming  life  came  to  be  an  empty 
basin  of  blinding  sand,  of  quivering  heat,  of  dreadful 
death.  Unheeding  the  ruin  it  had  wrought,  the  river 
swept  on  its  way. 

And  so — hemmed  in  by  mountain  wall,  barren 
hills  and  rainless  plains;  forgotten  by  the  ocean; 
deserted  by  the  river,  that  thirsty  land  lay,  the  lone 
liest,  most  desolate  bit  of  this  great  Western  Con 
tinent. 

But  the  river  could  not  work  this  ruin  without 
contributing  to  the  desert  the  rich  strength  it  had 
gathered  from  its  tributary  lands.  Mingled  with  the 
sand  of  the  ancient  sea-bed  was  the  silt  from  far 
away  mountain  and  hill  and  plain.  That  basin  of 
Death  was  more  than  a  dusty  tomb  of  a  life  that  had 
been;  it  was  a  sepulchre  that  held  the  vast  treasure 
of  a  life  that  would  be — would  be  when  the  ages 
should  have  made  also  the  master  men,  who  would 
dare  say  to  the  river:  "Make  restitution!" — men 
who  could,  with  power,  command  the  rich  life  within 
the  tomb  to  come  forth. 

84 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

But  master  men  are  not  the  product  of  years— 
scarcely,  indeed,  of  centuries.  The  people  of  my 
story  have  also  their  true  beginnings  in  ages  too 
remote  to  be  reckoned.  The  master  passions,  the 
governing  instincts,  the  leading  desires  and  the  driv 
ing  fears  that  hew  and  carve  and  form  and  fashion 
the  race  are  as  reckless  of  the  years  as  are  wave  and 
river  and  sun  and  wind.  Therefore  the  forgotten 
land  held  its  wealth  until  Time  should  make  the 
giants  that  could  take  it. 

In  the  centuries  of  those  forgotten  ages  that  went 
into  the  making  of  The  King's  Basin  Desert,  the 
families  of  men  grew  slowly  into  tribes,  the  tribes 
grew  slowly  into  nations  and  the  nations  grew  slowly 
into  worlds.  New  worlds  became  old ;  and  other  new 
worlds  were  discovered,  explored,  developed  and 
made  old;  war  and  famine  and  pestilence  and  pros 
perity  hewed  and  formed,  carved  and  built  and  fash 
ioned,  even  as  wave  and  river  and  sun  and  wind. 
The  kingdoms  of  earth,  air  and  water  yielded  up 
their  wealth  as  men  grew  strong  to  take  it;  the 
elements  bowed  their  necks  to  his  yoke,  to  fetch  and 
carry  for  him  as  he  grew  wise  to  order ;  the  wilder 
ness  fled,  the  mountains  lay  bare  their  hearts,  the 
waste  places  paid  tribute  as  he  grew  brave  to 
command. 

Across  the  wide  continent  the  tracks  of  its  wild 
life  were  trodden  out  by  the  broad  cattle  trails,  the 
paths  of  the  herds  were  marked  by  the  wheels  of 
immigrant  wagons  and  the  roads  of  the  slow-moving 
teams  became  swift  highways  of  steel.  In  the  East 
the  great  cities  that  received  the  hordes  from  every 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBARA  WORTH 

land  were  growing  ever  greater.  On  the  far  west 
coast  the  crowded  multitude  was  building  even  as  it 
was  building  in  the  East.  In  the  Southwest  savage 
race  succeeded  savage  race,  until  at  last  the  slow- 
footed  padres  overtook  the  swift-footed  Indian  and 
the  rude  civilization  made  possible  by  the  priests  in 
turn  ran  down  the  priest. 

About  the  land  of  my  story,  forgotten  under  the 
dry  sky,  this  ever-restless,  ever-swelling  tide  of  life 
swirled  and  eddied — swirled  and  eddied,  but  touched 
it  not.  On  the  west  it  swept  even  to  the  foot  of  the 
grim  mountain  wall.  On  the  east  one  far-flung  rip 
ple  reached  even  to  the  river — when  Rubio  City  was- 
born.  But  the  Desert  waited,  silent  and  hot  and 
fierce  in  its  desolation,  holding  its  treasures  under 
the  seal  of  death  against  the  coming  of  the  strong 
ones;  waited  until  the  man-making  forces  that 
wrought  through  those  long  ages  should  have  done 
also  their  work;  waited  for  this  age — for  your  age 
and  mine — for  the  age  of  the  Seer  and  his  com 
panions — for  the  days  of  my  story,  the  days  of  Bar 
bara  and  her  friends. 

The  Seer's  expedition,  returning  fro:  i  the  south, 
made  camp  on  the  bank  of  the  Rio  Cok  'ado  twenty 
miles  below  Rubio  City.  It  was  the  last  night  out. 
Supper  was  over  and  the  men,  with  their  pipes  and 
cigarettes,  settled  themselves  in  various  careless  atti 
tudes  of  repose  after  the  long  day.  Their  sun-burned 
faces,  toughened  figures  and  worn,  desert-stained 
clothing  testified  to  their  weeks  of  toil  in  the  open 
air  under  the  dry  sky  of  an  almost  rainless  land. 
Some  were  old-timers — veterans  of  many  a  similar 

86 


THE  WUSTiNTING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

campaign.  Two  were  new  recruits  on  their  first  trip. 
All  were  strong,  clean-cut,  vigorous  specimens  of 
intelligent,  healthy  manhood,  for  in  all  the  profes 
sions,  not  excepting  the  army  and  navy,  there  can 
be  found  no  finer  body  of  men  than  our  civil  engi 
neers. 

Easily  they  fell  to  talking  of  to-morrow  night  in 
Rubio  City,  of  baths  and  barbers  and  good  beds  and 
clean  clothes  and  dinners  and  the  pleasures  of  civil 
ization  and  prospective  future  jobs.  Much  good- 
natured  chaff  was  passed  with  hearty  give  and  take. 
Jokes  that  had  become  time-worn  in  the  many  days 
and  nights  that  the  party  had  been  cut  off  from  all 
other  society  were  revived  with  fresh  interest.  In 
cidents  and  accidents  of  the  trip  were  related  and 
reviewed  with  zest,  with  here  and  there  a  comment 
on  the  work  itself  that  was  still  fresh  in  their  minds. 

Abe  Lee,  sitting  with  his  back  against  a  wagon- 
wheel  and  his  long  legs  stretched  straight  out  in 
front,  listened,  enjoying  it  all  in  his  own  way,  taking 
his  share  of  the  chaff  with  a  slow  smile,  exhaling 
great  clouds  of  cigarette  smoke  and  only  at  rare 
intervals  contributing  a  word  or  a  short  sentence  to 
the  talk.  Abe  was  at  home  with  these  men  out  there 
in  the  desert  night.  Under  the  Chief  he  was  their 
master — respected,  admired  and  loved.  But  the  old- 
timers  knew  that  to-morrow,  in  town  with  these  same 
men,  dressed  in  conventional  garb,  on  the  street  or 
in  the  hotel,  the  surveyor  would  be  as  bashful  and 
awkward  as  a  country  boy.  So  they  joked  him 
about  his  numerous  sweethearts  in  Rubio  City  arid 
related  many  entirely  fictitious  love  adventures  and 

87 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

romantic  experiences  that  he  was  said  to  have  passed 
through  in  different  parts  of  the  country  during  the 
years  they  had  known  him.  Not  one  of  them  but 
would  have  been  astonished  beyond  words  had  he 
known  of  Abe's  adventure  the  afternoon  before  they 
left  Rubio  City,  and  how,  through  every  day  of  the 
hard,  grilling  labor  with  the  expedition,  the  image 
of  the  girl  he  had  watched  through  his  field  glass 
was  before  him. 

When  the  fire  of  the  wits  was  turned  on  another 
mark  zlbe  slowly  arose  to  his  feet  and  slipped  out  of 
the  circle.  Going  quietly  to  the  cook-wagon  where 
the  Chinaman  sat  smoking  in  solitary  grandeur,  he 
asked :  "Wing,  where  is  the  Chief  ?  I  saw  him  talk 
ing  to  you  a  little  while  ago." 

"Me  no  sabe,  Boss  Abe.  Chief,  him  go  off  that 
way."  He  pointed  toward  the  river  with  his  long 
bamboo  pipe.  "Wing  sabe  Chief  feel  velly  bad,  Boss 
Abe;  damn." 

The  white  man  regarded  the  Chinaman  silently 
for  a  moment,  then:  "You're  a  good  boy,  Wing. 
Good  night." 

"Night,  Boss  Abe,"  came  the  plaintive  answer, 
and  the  surveyor  went  on  to  where  a  group  of  Coco- 
pah  Indian  laborers  made  their  rude  camp.  These 
he  greeted  in  Spanish  and  asked:  "Has  the  Chief 
been  with  you  since  supper  ?" 

"No,  Senor.  He  by  river  there  little  time  past," 
said  one,  pointing  to  a  clump  of  cottonwood  trees 
that  rose  above  a  fringe  of  willows. 

"Buenos  noches,  hombres,"  said  Abe, 


88 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"Buenos  noches,  Senor,"  came  the  chorus  of  soft 
voices  in  the  dusk. 

On  the  high  bank  under  the  cottonwoods  the  Seer 
sat  with  bowed  head.  He  did  not  heed  the  broad 
yellow  tide  of  silt-laden  water  that  swept  by  him  so 
silently ;  he  did  not  see  the  myriad  stars  in  the  velvet 
sky,  nor  notice  the  golden  moon  climbing  slowly  up 
from  the  dark  level  of  the  land.  The  jovial  voices 
and  merry  laughter  of  his  men  came  to  him  from  the 
camp,  but  he  did  not  hear.  To-morrow  the  expedi 
tion  would  be  over,  the  party  disbanded.  He  would 
"make  his  report  to  the  capitalists  who  had  sent  him 
forth.  His  report! — the  Seer  groaned.  Few  words 
would  be  needed  to  sum  up  the  work  of  the  last  two 
months  but  it  would  not  be  easy  to  frame  them. 

His  ear  caught  the  snap  of  a  twig  and  a  whiff  of 
cigarette  smoke  floated  to  him.  He  turned  his  head 
quickly.  "That  you,  Abe  ?" 

The  long  figure  of  the  surveyor  settled  on  the  bank 
by  his  side.  For  a  little  neither  spoke,  while  the 
Seer,  with  slow  care,  filled  and  lighted  his  pipe. 

"Well,  lad,"  he  said  at  last,  "we  have  about 
reached  the  end  of  another  failure." 

"Will  you  go  to  New  York,  sir  ?" 

"No,  it  will  not  be  necessary.  I  can  write  in  fifty 
words  all  there  is  to  say." 

"Perhaps  they  will  send  you  out  again,"  offered 
the  surveyor. 

"Their  interest  is  not  strong  enough.  They  only 
tackled  this  because  some  other  fellows  were  consid 
ering  the  proposition.  That  made  them  think  there 
might  be  something  in  it.  If  I  had  the  capital  to 

89 


THE  WIKNTSTG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

make  surveys  and  could  go  to  them  with  data  for 
some  other  project  they  might  consider  it,  but — " 

Abe  rolled  another  cigarette  and  with  the  first 
cloud  of  smoke  came  the  slow  words:  "Well,  then, 
let's  get  the  data." 

Even  at  what  seemed  a  hopeless  suggestion  the  dis 
couraged  heart  of  the  old  engineer  beat  more  quickly. 
He  turned  his  face  toward  the  younger  man. 
"Where?" 

Abe  stretched  forth  a  long  arm  toward  the  broad 
Colorado  at  their  feet  and  toward  the  desert  beyond. 
"The  King's  Basin.  You've  often  told  me  about  that 
country.  If  I  sabe  the  lay  of  the  land  we're  some 
where  at  the  southern  end  of  it,  at  the  beginning  of 
the  high  ground  of  the  delta  that  shuts  out  the  ocean. 
There's  water  enough  here  for  five  times  that  terri 
tory." 

"Do  you  mean — "  the  Seer  began  quickly  and 
stopped. 

"I  mean  this:  you  already  know  the  north  and 
northeastern  part  of  the  Basin  from  the  railroad. 
You  have  been  through  it  from  the  west  on  the  San 
Felipe  trail.  Send  the  outfit  in  to-morrow  with  the 
boys.  Give  them  orders  on  the  bank  for  their  pay 
and  let  them  go.  You  and  I  can  scout  around  the 
delta  end  of  that  country  over  there  for  a  week  or 
two  and  if  it  looks  good,  with  what  you  have  already 
seen,  you  have  enough  to  talk  on.  Then  go  on  to  New 
York  and  when  you  report  on  the  southern  project 
turn  loose  on  'em  with  this." 

"Abe,"  said  the  engineer  thoughtfully,  "if  anyone 
but  you  were  to  propose  that  I  go  before  these  capi- 

90 


THE  WIKNTXG  OF  BAKBARxi  WORTH 

talists  to  interest  them  in  a  project  without  ever  hav 
ing  put  an  instrument  on  it  I  would  knock  him 
down.  f,uch  recklessness  would  ruin  any  civil  engi 
neer  in  the  world,  if — " 

"If  he  guessed  wrong/'  finished  Abe  dryly. 

"If  he  guessed  wrong/'  admitted  the  Seer  reluc 
tantly. 

"If  it  looked  good  enough  for  you  to  risk  an  opin 
ion  you  would  have  some  strong  talking  points,"  ven 
tured  Abe.  "There  must  be  five  hundred  thousand 
acres  in  that  old  sea-bed.  The  Colorado  carries 
water  enough  for  five  times  that  area.  There's  the 
railroad  already  built  along  one  side;  there's  San 
Felipe  and  the  whole  Coast  country  within  easy 
reach.  It  beats  the  other  proposition  a  hundred  to 
one,  if  it  can  be  done  at  all." 

The  Seer  rose  and  paced  up  and  down  in  the 
bright  moonlight.  Presently  he  said:  "If  you 
accept  the  position  with  Hunt  up  north  you 
should  go  on  at  once.  That  job  would  be  the  best 
thing  you  ever  had.  Don't  you  want  to  take  it  ?" 

"You  know  what  I  want,  if  you  can  use  me." 

"I  could  manage  your  present  salary  for  this  trip 
but  beyond  that  you  know  how  uncertain  it  all  is. 
Hunt  can't  wait  any  longer." 

"Look  here,"  said  Abe,  angrily,  "I  understood 
when  I  made  my  proposition  that  our  salaries  would 
stop  when  we  cut  the  outfit.  Do  you  think  I  meant 
for  you  to  take  all  the  risk?  I'm  only  a  surveyor 
and  you  an  educated  engineer  but  this  thing  means 
as  much  to  me  as  it  does  to  you.  Let  me  share  the 
expense  and  I'm  with  you  but  not  on  any  other  terms. 

91 


THE  wiKjsrnro  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

Hunt  and  his  job  can  go  hang.  I  don't  see  why  you 
should  assume  that  it's  only  my  pay  that  I  work  for." 
It  was  a  long  speech  for  Abe. 

The  engineer  put  his  big  hand  oil  the  young  man's 
shoulder.  "Thank  you,  Abe,"  he  said.  "That  does 
rne  good.  I've  always  known  that  it  was  there.  But 
it's  a  hard  road,  lad,  a  mighty  hard  road!"  Then: 
"I  wonder  if  we  have  an  Indian  in  the  outfit  who 
knows  this  country." 

"Yes,  sir,"  Abe  answered  promptly.  "Jose  knows 
it  well.  I've  been  pumping  him  for  a  month.  I'll 
get  him." 

As  the  tall  figure  of  the  surveyor  disappeared  in 
the  direction  of  the  Cocopah  camp  the  Seer  smiled  to 
himself.  "Been  pumping  him  for  a  month,"  he 
repeated.  "That  means  that  he  saw  almost  before  I 
did  that  the  other  proposition  was  no  good.  Humph !" 

He  faced  toward  the  river  and  looked  away  into 
the  night  where  The  King's  Basin  lay — a  weird 
dream-country  under  the  light  of  the  moon.  And 
because  it  was  impossible  to  think  of  Barbara's 
Desert  without  thinking  of  Barbara  he  smiled  again, 
musing  that  there  would  be  little  sleep  that  night  for 
the  girl  in  Rubio  City  if  she  knew  what  he  and  Abe 
were  considering.  From  across  the  river  came  the 
shrill,  snarling,  yelping  coyote  chorus  and  the  engi 
neer  saw  again  the  body  of  a  dead  woman  at  the  dry 
water  hole,  an  empty  canteen,  and  a  big-eyed,  brown- 
haired  baby  stretching  out  her  arms  to  him. 

While  the  Seer  was  too  careful  an  engineer  to  take 
quickly  the  suggestion  of  Abe,  he  had  seen  too  many 
tests  of  the  desert-bred  surveyor's  genius  not  to  con- 

92 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

sider  his  proposition  seriously.  He  was  also  too 
much  of  a  dreamer  not  to  be  influenced  by  thoughts 
of  Barbara  and  her  association  in  his  mind  with  this 
particular  project.  Could  it  be  that  the  land  which 
had  so  tragically  given  the  child  into  his  life  was  now 
to  realize  his  dreams  of  Reclamation. 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  return  of  Abe,  who  was 
followed  by  an  old,  grizzly-haired  Cocopah. 

"Tell  the  Chief  what  you  have  told  me.  Jose,"  said 
the  surveyor  and,  stepping  aside,  he  rolled  the  inev 
itable  cigarette  with  an  air  of  taking  himself  wholly 
out  of  the  matter  under  consideration. 

"You  sabe  that  country  over  there,  Jose?"  asked 
the  Chief. 

"Si,  Senor,"  came  the  soft  answer,  and  reaching 
out,  the  Indian  gently  turned  the  engineer  so  that 
the  latter  stood  with  his  back  squarely  to  the  river. 
Taking  the  Seer's  right  hand  and  holding  it  out 
stretched  with  open  palm  upward  in  one  of  his  own 
and  tracing  with  the  other  dark-skinned  finger,  as 
one  might  trace  on  a  relief  map,  he  continued  in 
Spanish,  as  he  drew  his  finger  carefully  along  the 
white  man's  thumb  from  the  wrist:  "Here  are  the 
mountains  that  shut  out  the  country  by  the  Big  Sea 
where  is  San  Felipe.  I  go  there  once,  long  time  ago. 
My  people  live  there.'7  He  indicated  the  space 
between  the  first  and  second  joints  of  the  thumb. 
Next  he  touched  the  base  of  the  Seer's  little  finger. 
"Here  is  Rubio  City."  Then  tracing  the  outer  rim 
of  the  palm  toward  the  wrist:  "Here  are  the  hills, 
and  the  railroad  that  the  Senor  made."  His  finger 
paused  in  the  depression  between  the  base  of  the 

93 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

thumb  and  the  outer  edge  of  the  palm  at  the  wrist. 
"The  Senor's  railroad  goes  through  the  Pass  in  the 
high  mountains  here."  Next,  from  the  outer  edge  of 
the  hand  he  traced  across  the  palm  at  the  base  of  the 
fingers.  "The  river  goes  this  way  to  the  big  water 
that  conies  in  from  the  sea  here."  He  indicated  the 
open  space  between  the  extended  thumb  and  the  inner 
edge  of  the  palm. 

"We  stand  now  here."  He  touched  the  base  of  the 
Seer's  index  finger.  "It  is  The  Hollow  of  God's 
Hand,  Senor — La  Palma  do  la  Mano  de  Dios,"  he 
repeated  reverently.  He  dropped  the  engineer's  hand 
and  stood  quietly  waiting  to  be  questioned. 

Again  the  Seer  put  forth  his  hand  and  pointing 
with  his  own  finger  to  the  inner  edge  of  the  palm 
between  the  base  of  the  index  finger  and  the  thumb, 
he  asked :  "The  land  is  high  here  ?" 

"Si,  Senor,  a  little.  Just  like  the  hand.  It  is 
much  low  here."  He  touched  the  deepest  part  of  the 
palm.  "And  a  little  high  here  where  we  stand. 
Sometimes  when  much  water  comes  the  river  goes 
all  over  here."  He  indicated  the  extreme  inner  edge 
of  the  palm.  "Most  always  this  water  go  all  this 
Way" — toward  the  open  space  between  the  thumb  and 
palm.  "Sometimes  a  little  goes  here."  He  traced 
the  lines  that  cross  the  palm  towards  the  wrist. 

"You  can  show  us  this  country  ?" 

"Si,  Senor." 

"How  long  will  it  take  ?" 

"What  you  like.  From  here  to  Lone  Mountain 
straight — maybe  one  day  go,  maybe  two  day  go." 

"There  is  water  ?" 

94 


MAP 

Of 


LA  PALMA  DE  LA  MANO  DE  DIGS 

(71tf£J1OLt0W  Of  GOO'S  HAW) 


T££OLOT£  fMMCHQ 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

"Si.  Much  water  left  from  the  river  last  time  big 
\*ater  come." 

The  Chief  looked  at  the  silent  Abe,  then  back  to 
the  old  Indian.  "All  right,  Jose ;  we  go  in  the  morn 
ing — you,  Senor  Lee  and  I.  Be  ready." 

"Si,  Senor.    Buenos  noches,  Senores." 

"Good  night!  Good  night!"  returned  the  two 
white  men. 

There  was  much  conjecturing  among  the  surprised 
surveyors  next  morning,  when  the  Chief  gave  to  each 
man  his  pay  check  and  placed  an  old-timer  in  charge 
with  instructions  as  to  the  disposition  of  the  outfit 
when  they  should  arrive  in  Rubio  City. 

Two  loaded  pack-mules  and  three  saddle  ponies 
were  ready  when  the  Seer  had  finished  his  business 
with  the  men.  Good-bys  were  spoken  all  around  and 
the  Seer  and  Abe,  with  Jose  in  the  lead,  turned  back 
toward  the  south. 

"Looks  like  they  had  forgotten  something,"  said 
one  of  the  recruits  as  the  group  stood  watching  the 
little  party  jog  steadily  into  the  distance,  apparently 
retracing  the  tracks  the  expedition  had  made  the  day 
before. 

"Sonny,"  remarked  the  veteran  left  in  charge, 
"what  one  of  that  pair  forgets  the  other  is  dead  sure 
to  remember.  All  the  signs  say  that  they're  makin' 
big  medicine.  All  we  have  to  do  with  it  is  to  push 
for  Rubio  City  pronto  and  cash  our  pay  checks. 
Lord!  but  wouldn't  I  like  to  be  in  it,"  he  added 
regretfully  as  he  turned  away. 

With  provisions  for  three  weeks  on  the  pack- 
animals  and  the  assurance  of  Jose  that  there  was 

96 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

feed  and  water  in  the  overflow  lands  for  the  horses, 
the  Seer  and  Abe  proposed  to  cover  most  of  the  terri 
tory  lying  between  the  Rio  Colorado  and  Lone  Moun 
tain.  It  was  here  that  the  great  river,  in  the  ages 
long  past,  had  built  the  delta  dam,  thus  cutting  off 
the  northern  end  of  the  gulf  that  was  now  The  King's 
Basin  Desert.  It  was  their  plan  to  follow  this  high 
land  that  separated  the  ocean  from  the  Basin  to  the 
mountains,  then  to  work  back  as  far  out  in  the  Basin 
from  water  and  feed  as  they  could.  They  would  then 
follow  the  river  on  the  Basin  side  to  Rubio  City. 

They  had  barely  passed  beyond  sight  of  the  main 
party  when  Jose  turned  directly  toward  the  river. 
At  that  stage  of  water  a  long  bar  put  out  into  the 
stream  and  from  its  point  the  current  set  strongly 
toward  the  opposite  bank. 

"Here  we  cross,"  said  the  Indian  briefly. 

Constructing  a  rude  raft  for  their  supplies  and 
swimming  the  animals,  they  reached  the  other  shore 
some  distance  below  the  point  of  launching  with  no 
accident,  and  that  night  camped  well  back  from  the 
river  on  the  delta  land. 

Day  after  day  they  rode  from  sunrise  until  dark; 
studying  the  land,  estimating  distances  and  grades, 
observing  the  courses  of  the  channels  cut  by  the 
overflow  and  the  marks  of  high  water,  noting  the 
character  of  the  soil  and  the  vegetation;  sometimes 
together,  sometimes  separated ;  with  Jose  to  select 
their  camping  places  and  to  help  them  with  his 
Indian  knowledge  of  the  country. 

And  always  at  night,  after  the  long  hard  day,  when 
supper — cooked  by  their  own  hands — was  over  with 

97 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

pipe  and  cigarettes  they  reviewed  their  observations 
and  compared  notes,  summing  up  the  results  before 
rolling  in  their  blankets  to  sleep  under  the  stars. 

Some  day,  perhaps,  when  the  world  is  much  older 
and  very  much  wiser,  Civilization  will  erect  a  proper 
monument  to  the  memory  of  such  men  as  these.  But 
just  now  Civilization  is  too  greedily  quarreling  over 
its  newly  acquired  wealth  to  acknowledge  its  debt  of 
honor  to  those  who  made  this  wealth  possible. 

But  the  Seer  and  his  companion  concerned  them 
selves  with  no  such  thoughts  as  these.  They  thought 
only  of  the  possibility  of  converting  the  thousands  of 
acres  of  The  King's  Basin  Desert  into  productive 
farms.  For  this  they  conceived  to  be  their  work. 

They  had  worked  across  the  Basin  to  Lone  Moun 
tain  and  back  to  the  river  to  a  point  nearly  opposite 
the  clump  of  cotton  woods  where  they  had  left  the  expe 
dition.  To-morrow  night  they  would  be  in  Rubio  City. 

"Abe,"  said  the  Seer,  "our  intake  would  go  in 
right  here.  We  could  follow  the  old  channel  of  Dry 
River  with  our  canal  about  twenty  miles  out,  put  in 
a  heading  and  lead  off  our  mains  and  laterals." 

For  two  or  three  hours  they  discussed  plans  and 
estimates,  then  the  engineer  shut  his  note-book  with 
a  snap.  "If  those  New  Yorkers  don't  listen  to  what 
I  can  tell  them  of  this  country  now  they're  a  whole 
lot  slower  than  I  take  them  to  be." 

"Then  you  think  you  will  make  a  guess  on  the 
proposition,"  asked  Abe  slyly. 

The  Seer  laughed  like  a  boy.  "I  start  for  New 
York  to-morrow  night,"  he  answered. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day  they  struck  the 

98 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

San  Felipe  trail  a  few  miles  from  Rubio  City. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  sight  of  that  old  road,  with  its 
memories  for  the  Seer  and  his  companion,  that  led 
the  engineer  to  say:  "It's  curious,  Abe,  but  I  can't 
shake  off  the  odd  feeling  that  Barbara's  life  is  some 
how  wrapped  up  in  that  country  out  there."  As  he 
spoke  he  turned  in  his  saddle  to  look  back  toward  the 
Basin.  "She  seems  to  belong  to  it  somehow  as,  in  a 
way,  it  belongs  to  her.  There  is  a  look  in  her  eyes 
sometimes  that  makes  me  think  of  the  desert  and  the 
desert  always  reminds  me  of  her.  I  know  one  thing," 
he  finished  with  a  short  laugh,  "if  I  was  to  let  out 
some  of  the  fancies  that  have  come  to  me  in  this 
connection  it  would  ruin  me  forever  so  far  as  my 
profession  goes." 

Abe  made  no  reply,  possibly  because  he  also  had  fan 
cies — fancies  that  he  could  not  tell  even  to  the  Seer. 

It  is  astonishing  what  a  great  cloud  of  dust  five 
animals  can  stir  up  on  a  desert  trail.  As  the  little 
outfit  jogged  slowly  along,  the  great  yellow  mass 
rolled  up  into  the  air  high  above  their  heads  and 
hung — a  long,  slow-drifting  streamer — above  the  trail 
until  it  vanished  in  the  distance. 

Barbara,  who  was  riding  out  from  town  on  the 
Mesa,  saw  that  cloud  and  stopped  to  study  it  intently 
for  a  few  moments  as  if  debating  some  question. 
Then  touching  her  animal  with  the  spur,  she  set  off 
rapidly  in  the  direction  of  the  approaching  horse 
men  ;  while  the  two  men  watched  the  dust  that  arose 
from  the  single  horse's  feet  with  the  interest  that 
travelers  in  lonely  lands  always  feel  in  any  life  that 
chances  to  come  their  way. 

99 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"Abe,  that's  a  woman,"  exclaimed  the  Seer  after  a 
time. 

Abe  said  nothing.  He  had  discovered  that  interest 
ing  fact  some  moments  before. 

The  engineer  rose  in  his  stirrups.  "Abe,  I'll  bet 
a  month's  salary  it's  Barbara." 

"I'm  not  gambling,"  returned  the  other,  smiling  at 
his  companion's  excitement.  "I  know  it  is." 

The  big  engineer  dropped  into  his  saddle  with  a 
grunt  of  disgust.  "Young  man,  you've  got  eyes  like 
a  buzzard,"  he  said,  twisting  about  to  face  his  com 
panion.  "By  all  traditions  I  suppose  I  should  say 
'eagle,'  but  you  certainly  don't  look  much  like  that 
noble  king  of  birds.  You're  carrying  dirt  enough  to 
bury  a  horse." 

The  Seer  took  off  his  sombrero  and  began  beating 
the  dust  from  his  own  shoulders,  while  the  surveyor 
looked  on  in  silent  amusement. 

"She'll  think  by  the  dust  you're  a-raisin'  that 
there's  some  kind  of  a  scrap  goin'  on  and  that  she'd 
better  head  the  other  way." 

"Not  much  she  wouldn't  head  the  other  way  from 
a  scrap.  She  would  come  on  all  the  faster.  I  thought 
you  knew  Barbara  better  than  that."  He  replaced 
his  hat.  "Why  Abe,  one  time  when  she  was — " 

The  surveyor  interrupted  his  Chief  by  standing  up 
in  his  stirrups  in  turn  and  swinging  his  hat  in 
greeting,  while  the  Seer,  in  waving  his  own  sombrero 
and  whooping  like  a  wild  man,  forgot  what  he  was 
about  to  relate. 

The  girl  came  on  at  a  run  and — guiding  her  horse 
between  the  two  dust-covered  men — held  out  a  hand 
to  each. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
THE  STANDARD  OF  THE  WEST. 

|HREE  days  after  the  Seer's  letters  to  Abe 
and  Barbara  telling  them  that  James  Green 
field  and  his  associates  would  finance  an 
expedition  to  make  the  preliminary  surveys  in  The 
King's  Basin  Desert,  the  west-bound  overland 
dropped  a  passenger  in  Rubio  City  from  New  York. 

The  stranger  was  really  a  fine  looking  young  man 
with  the  appearance  of  being  exceptionally  well-bred 
and  well-kept.  Indeed  the  most  casual  of  observers 
would  not  have  hesitated  to  pronounce  him  a  thor 
oughbred  and  a  good  individual  of  the  best  type  that 
the  race  has  produced. 

A  company  of  men  and  women — traveling  ac 
quaintances  evidently — followed  him  from  the  Pull 
man  to  bid  him  good-by  and  to  look  at  the  Indians, 
who  with  their  wealth  of  curios  spread  before  them, 
squatted  in  a  long  row  beside  the  track — objects  of 
never  failing  interest  to  travelers  from  the  East. 

"Ugh!"  said  a  tall  blonde,  who  displayed  more 
bracelets,  bangles,  chains  and  charms — both  natural 
and  manufactured — than  any  blanketed  squaw  in  the 
party  of  natives,  "I  suppose  if  we  ever  see  you  again 
you'll  be  the  color  of  that  thing  there."  She  pointed 
to  a  smoky,  copper-colored  Papago  in  a  green  head- 
cloth  and  decorated  shirt,  who  posed  in  a  watchful 
attitude  near  his  thrifty  help-meet. 

101 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"How  perfectly  romantic!"  gushed  a  billowy 
divorcee,  clinging  to  the  young  fellow's  athletic  arm 
with  little  shivers  of  delight.  "To  think  of  you  in 
this  great,  savage,  wild  land,  among  these  strange 
people.  Aren't  you  just  a  little  bit  frightened  ?" 

"By  George,  I  half  wish  I  was  going  to  stop  with 
you.  You'll  get  some  great  shooting,  don't  you 
know!"  exclaimed  one  of  the  men,  while  the  chorus 
joined  in :  "You'll  die  of  loneliness !"  "You'll  find 
nothing  fit  to  eat !"  "And  do  take  care  of  yourself !" 

Then  as  the  warning,  "All  aboard !"  and  the  clang 
of  the  engine  bell  came  down  the  platform,  there  were 
quick  good-bys  and  a  rush  for  the  car.  The  colored 
porters  tossed  their  steps  aboard  and  followed. 
Smoothly  the  long,  dust-covered  coaches  slid  past. 
There  was  a  waving  of  handkerchiefs  and  caps  from 
the  rear  of  the  observation  car,  and  the  young  man 
turned  to  look  curiously  about. 

"Hotel  ?" 

The  stranger  glanced  doubtfully  at  the  tough- 
looking  citizen  who  reached  for  his  suit  case,  and 
without  replying  stepped  into  the  questionable  look 
ing  hack  standing  nearby.  The  driver  threw  the  suit 
case  into  the  vehicle  after  his  passenger  and  climbing 
to  his  seat,  yelled  to  the  team. 

There  was  no  rush  of  brass-buttoned  bell-boys  to 
meet  the  guest  at  the  door  of  the  hotel,  and  the  room 
was  well-filled  with  a  group  strange  to  the  eyes  of 
the  young  man  from  New  York.  Bronzed-faced  men 
in  flannel  shirts  and  belted  trousers  talked  to  men 
well-dressed  in  more  conventional  business  clothes; 
others  in  their  shirt  sleeves  sat  smoking  with  com- 

102 


THE  WIOTNG  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

panions  in  blue  overalls;  two  or  three  wore  guns 
loosely  belted  at  their  hips.  Here  and  there  was  the 
pale-faced,  white-collared,  tied  and  tailored  tourist. 
In  the  corner  near  the  big  window  a  group  of  women, 
some  in  white  duck,  some  in  khaki  or  corduroy,  sat 
chatting  and  enjoying  the  scene.  ~No  one  paid  the 
least  attention  to  the  newcomer.  The  tough-looking 
driver  of  the  hack  dropped  the  suit  case  near  the 
desk  with  a  bang  and  turned  to  reply  to  a  good- 
natured  remark  addressed  to  him  by  a  jovial,  well- 
dressed  man  standing  near.  Only  the  clerk  regarded 
the  stranger. 

"Have  you  a  room  with  bath  ?" 

The  clerk  smiled.  "Certainly,  sir."  Then  to  a 
young  fellow  talking  over  the  cigar  counter  to  a  man 
in  high-heeled  boots  and  spurs:  "Jack,  show  this 
gentleman  to  forty-five." 

In  the  well-furnished  room  the  guide  threw  open 
long  French  windows  and  pointed  to  a  cot  on  the 
screened-porch  outside.  "Better  sleep  on  the  porch," 
he  volunteered. 

"Sleep  on  the  porch  ?" 

"Suit  yourself,"  came  the  answer  as  the  inde 
pendent  one  turned  away. 

"Look  here!"  The  employe  of  the  house  paused. 
"I  want  my  trunk  sent  up  immediately." 

"Sure  Mike!     Let's  have  your  checks.     So-long!" 

The  stranger  stood  staring  at  the  door,  which  the 
breezy  young  man,  as  he  disappeared  with  a  cheery 
whistle,  had  shut  behind  him  with  a  vigorous  bang. 

In  the  dining  room  the  man  from  !N"ew  York  found 
the  same  easy  freedom  in  the  manner  of  dress,  the 

103 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

same  lack  of  conventionalities  and  the  same  atmos 
phere  of  general  good-fellowship;  yet  he  could  not 
say  that  there  was  any  lack  of  real  courtesy  and 
certainly  there  was  no  rude  and  boisterous  talk.  It 
was,  to  say  the  least,  unsettling  to  the  exceptionally 
well-bred  and  well-kept  stranger,  accustomed  to  the 
hotels  and  restaurants  in  the  East  frequented  by  his 
class. 

Early  that  evening  the  Easterner  sallied  forth, 
clearly  bent  on  sight-seeing.  He  had  dressed  for  the 
occasion.  The  gray  traveling  suit  had  been  put  aside 
for  a  tailor-made  outfit  of  corduroy.  The  coat — worn 
without  a  vest  over  a  fine  negligee  shirt  of  silk — 
was  Norfolk;  the  trousers  were  riding  trousers  and 
above  the  tan  shoes  were  pig-skin  puttees.  All  this, 
with  the  light,  soft  hat,  neat  tie  and  the  undeniably 
fine  figure  and  handsome  face,  would  have  made  him 
attractive  on  any  stage.  The  tourists  turned  to  look 
after  him  with  expressions  of  admiring  envy;  the 
natives — white,  red,  black,  yellow  and  brown — 
accepted  him  with  no  more  than  a  passing  glance  as 
a  part  of  the  strange  new  life  that  the  railroad  was 
constantly  bringing  to  Eubio  City. 

Calmly  conscious  of  himself  and  openly  interested, 
in  a  mildly  condescending  way,  the  young  man 
strolled  down  one  side  of  the  main  street  to  the  end 
of  the  business  section,  then  back  on  the  other.  Twice 
he  made  the  round,  then,  seeking  scenes  of  further 
interest,  pushed  open  the  swinging  doors  of  Eubio 
City's  most  popular  place  of  amusement — the  Gold 
Bar  saloon. 

At  a  table  in  one  corner  two  men — one  tall,  dark- 

104 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

faced,  coatless,  with  unbuttoned  vest,  leather  wrist- 
guards,  and  a  heavy  gun  loosely  buckled  about  his 
slim  waist;  the  other  thick-set,  heavy,  red-faced — 
were  holding  animated  conversation  over  their 
glasses.  That  is  to  say :  the  thick,  red-faced  man  was 
animated.  Glaring  at  his  companion  he  banged  his 
huge,  hairy  fist  on  the  table  until  the  glasses  jumped. 

"Ye're  a  domned  owld  savage  wid  yer  talk.  Fwhat 
the  hell  is  yer  counthry  good  for  as  ut  is  ?  A  thousan' 
square  miles  av  ut  wouldn't  feed  a  jack-rabbit.  'Tis 
a  blistherin',  sizzlin',  roasting  wilderness  av  sand  an' 
cactus,  fit  for  nothin'  but  thim  side-winders,  horn'- 
toads,  heely-monsters  an'  all  their  poisonous  rela 
tions,  includin'  yersilf." 

The  New  Yorker,  standing  at  the  end  of  the  bar 
nearest  the  table  occupied  by  Barbara's  auncles,"  who 
had  just  arrived  from  the  Gold  Center  mines,  heard 
the  words  of  Pat  and  turned  toward  the  two  friends 
with  amused  interest. 

Texas  Joe  silently  lifted  his  glass  and  with  a  look 
of  undisguised  admiration  for  his  belligerent  part 
ner,  waited  for  more.  More  came  with  another  thump 
of  the  huge  fist. 

"  'Tis  civilization  that  ye  need,  an'  'tis  civilization 
that  we're  bringin'  to  ye,  an'  'tis  civilization  that 
ye've  got  to  take  whether  ye  like  ut  or  not.  Look  at 
the  Seer,  now !  Wan  gintleman  wid  brains  an'  educa 
tion  like  him  is  wort'  more  to  this  counthry  than  all 
the  hell-roarin'  savages  like  yersilf  between  the  Coast 
an'  Oklahoma,  which  is  not  so  much  better  than  it 
was.  We've  brung  ye  money;  we've  brung  ye 
schools ;  we've  brung  ye  railroads ;  an'  we'll  kape  on 

105 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

bringin'  ye  the  blissin's  an'  joys  av  civilization  'til  ye 
mend  yer  ways  an'  live  like  Christians." 

He  paused.  Texas  was  staring  with  child-like 
simplicity  at  the  immaculate  figure  of  the  stranger 
in  puttees.  Pat  turned  to  follow  the  gaze  of  his 
companion  just  as  the  plainsman  drawled  softly: 
"And  you've  brought  us  that." 

The  Irishman's  heavy  jaw  dropped.  He  gasped 
and  gulped  like  an  uncouth  monster.  Then — 
speechless — he  drained  his  glass. 

The  stranger's  face  flushed  but  he  did  not  move. 

"Pardner,"  drawled  Texas,  "your  remarks  is 
sure  edifyin'  a  heap  an'  some  convincin'.  But  I'm 
still  constrained  to  testify  that  the  real  cause  an' 
reason  for  the  declinin'  glory  of  this  yere  great 
western  country  is  poor  shootin'.  That  same,  in 
turn,  bein'  caused  by  the  incomin'  herds  from  the 
effete  East  bein'  so  numerous  as  to  hinder  gun- 
practice." 

"Guns  is  ut?"  interrupted  the  other  with  a  roar. 
"A  man — mind  ye:  a  man — should  be  ashamed  to 
go  about  all  the  time  wid  a  cannon  tied  to  his  middle. 
'Tis  the  mark  av  a  child.  Look  at  ye,  now,  wid  all 
yer  artillery  an'  me  wid  fingers  that  niver  pushed  a 
thrigger."  He  held  out  his  great  paws  and  studied 
them  admiringly.  "Why,  ye  herrin',  wid  thim  two 
hands  I  could  break  ye,  gun  an'  all,  like  I've " 

He  was  interrupted  by  a  wild-eyed  individual  who 
rushed  into  the  room  from  the  street  and,  springing 
toward  them,  burst  forth  with :  "Give  me  your  gun, 
Texas,  quick!  I  ain't  got  mine  on  and  that  damned 
Red  Hoyt  is  a  layin'  for  me  at  the  corner !" 

106 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

Texas  Joe  dropped  his  slim  hand  caressingly  on 
the  big  forty-five  at  his  side,  leaned  easily  back  in 
his  chair  and  eyed  the  excited  citizen  in  a  manner 
calmly  judicial.  "Bill,  you're  comin'  is  some  oppor 
tune.  You're  sure  Johnny-on-the-spot." 

"Le'  me  have  yer  gun,  Tex.  Jes'  loan  her  to  me ! 
I'll  be  back  in  a  minute." 

"Oh,  I  ain't  doubtin'  that  you'd  be  back  all  right, 
Bill.  That's  jest  the  p'int.  When  you  blew  in  so 
promisc'us  an'  interrupted  the  meetin',  me  an'  my 
friend  here  was  jest  resolvin'  that  there's  too  much 
bad  shootin'  bein'  done  in  this  here  Rubio  town.  It's 
a  spoilin'  the  fair  name  an'  a  ruinin'  the  reputation 
of  this  country.  For  which  said  reason  us  two 
undertakes  to  regulate  an'  reform  some."  He  turned 
with  elaborate  politeness  to  Pat.  "I  voices  yer  senti 
ments  correct,  pard?" 

The  Irishman's  fist  struck  the  table  and  his  eyes 
flashed.  "To  the  thrim  av  a  gnat's  heel,"  he  roared. 

Texas  bowed  and  continued:  "Therefore,  Bill, 
this  here's  our  verdict.  You  camp  right  here  peace 
able  while  I  go  out  an'  fetch  this  Red  Hoyt  person 
what's  been  annoyin'  you.  We'll  stand  you  up  at 
fifteen  steps,  with  nothing  between  to  obstruct  cere 
monies,  an'  drop  the  hat.  Me  an'  my  friend  referees 
the  job  an'  undertakes  to  see  that  the  remains  is  duly 
and  properly  planted  with  all  regular  honors.  Sabe  ?" 

The  blood-thirsty  one,  growling  something  about 
attending  to  his  own  funeral  and  finding  a  gun  some 
where  else,  went  quietly  and  quickly  out. 

Before  the  pugnacious  Pat  could  voice  his  disgust 
and  disappointment  at  the  disappearance  of  the 

107 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

trouble-hunting  citizen,  a  low,  contemptuous  laugh 
from  the  well-built  stranger  at  the  bar  drew  the  atten 
tion  of  the  two  friends.  The  young  man  was  watch 
ing  them  with  an  amused  smile. 

Texas  Joe  and  the  Irishman  regarded  each  other 
thoughtfully.  "Pard,"  said  Tex  in  a  low,  earnest 
tone,  "do  you  reckon  that  there  hilarity  was  in  any 
ways  directed  toward  this  corner  of  the  room  ?" 

The  stranger,  receiving  his  change  from  the  bar 
tender,  was  moving  leisurely  toward  the  door  when 
his  way  was  barred  by  the  heavy  bulk  of  Pat.  There 
was  no  misunderstanding  the  expression  on  the  battle- 
scarred  features  of  the  Irish  gladiator.  Eyeing  the 
athletic  Easterner  fiercely,  he  growled  with  deliber 
ate  meaning:  "Ye  same  to  be  findin'  plenty  av 
amusement  in  the  private  affairs  av  me  friend  an' 
mesilf.  D'ye  think  that  we  are  a  coople  av  hoochy- 
koochy  girls  to  be  makin'  sphort  for  all  the  domned 
dudes  that  runs  to  look  at  us  whin  their  mammas 
don't  know  they're  out  ?" 

The  other  regarded  him  with  well-bred  surprise. 
"Stand  aside,"  he  said  curtly. 

"Oh,  ho!  ye  will  lave  widout  properly  apologizin' 
for  yer  outrageous  conduc'  will  ye?  'Tis  an  ambu 
lance  that  ye'll  nade  to  take  ye  home  whin  I've 
taught  ye  manners,  ye  danged  yellow-legged  cock-a- 
doodle!" 

He  lifted  his  fists  and  the  stranger,  without  giving 
back  an  inch  or  exhibiting  the  slightest  suggestion 
of  fear,  but  rather  with  the  calm  self-confidence  of  a 
trained  athlete,  squared  himself  for  the  encounter. 

Eagerly  the  patrons  of  the  place — miners,  cowboys, 

108 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

ranchers,  adventurers,  Mexicans,  Indians — had  gath 
ered  around  the  two  men,  delighted  with  the  prospect 
of  what  promised  to  be  no  tame  exhibition.  Already 
several  bets  had  been  placed  and  critical  estimates 
and  comments  on  the  comparative  merits  of  the  two 
were  being  made  freely  when  a  hand  fell  on  Pat's 
uplifted  arm.  Turning  with  an  oath  of  rage  at  the 
interruption,  the  Irishman  faced  Abe  Lee. 

"Hello,  Pat !  Amusing  yourself  as  usual  ?"  To 
the  angry  protests  from  the  crowd  the  tall  surveyor 
gave  not  the  slightest  heed. 

For  a  moment  the  Irishman,  looking  up  into  that 
thin,  sun-tanned  face,  was  speechless  as  though  he 
faced  some  apparition.  Then  with  a  yell  of  delight 
he  caught  the  lank  form  of  the  Seer's  assistant  in  a 
bear-like  hug.  "For  the  love  av  Gawd  is  ut  ye,  ye 
owld  sand-rat  ?  Where  the  hell  did  ye  drop  from,  an7 
fwhat  are  ye  doin'  in  this  dishreputable  company? 
Look  at  Uncle  Tex,  there !  The  sentimental  owld  sav 
age  is  fair  slobberin'  wid  delight  an'  eagerness  to  git 
at  ye.  Come,  come ;  we  must  have  a  dhrink." 

As  quickly  as  it  had  risen  the  storm  had  passed. 
The  crowd,  as  if  moved  by  a  single  impulse,  sepa 
rated  and  the  room  was  filled  with  loud  talk  and 
laughter.  Glancing  around,  Pat's  eye  met  the  still 
defiant  look  of  the  stranger  who  had  not  moved  from 
his  place  but  stood  calmly  watching  the  Irishman 
and  Abe  as  if  waiting  the  pleasure  of  the  man  who 
had  challenged  him. 

The  Irishman  grinned  in  appreciation.  "Howld 
on  a  minut,"  he  said  to  Abe  who  was  moving  away 
with  Texas  Joe  toward  a  vacant  table.  Then  to  the 

109 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

stranger :  "I  axe  yer  pardon,  Sorr,  for  goin'  off  me 
head  that  way.  'Tis  a  habit  I  have,  worse  luck  to 
me — bein'  sensitive,  do  ye  see,  about  me  personal 
appearance  an'  some  wishful  for  a  bit  av  honest 
enjoyment.  Av  ye'll  have  a  dhrink  wid  me  an'  my 
friends  here  I'll  take  ut  kindly  until  we  can  find 
some  betther  cause  for  grievance." 

The  young  man's  tense  figure  relaxed.  A  smile 
broke  over  his  face.  "And  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he 
said  heartily.  "The  fact  is  I  was  not  laughing  at  you 
at  all  but  at  the  way  you  two  men  called  the  bluff  of 
that  fellow  who  wanted  the  gun.  I  should  have  said 
so  and  apologized  but  I,  too,  was  a  little  upset  and 
thrown  off  my  guard." 

"Faith,  ut  looked  to  me  that  ye  were  thrown  on 
your  guard.  'Tis  the  science  ye  have  or  I'm  a 
Dutchman."  He  eyed  the  athletic  limbs,  deep  chest, 
broad  shoulders  and  well-set  head,  with  eyes  that 
twinkled  his  approval.  "Some  day —  But  niver 
mind  now !  Come."  He  led  the  way  to  the  table. 

As  they  seated  themselves  Pat  regarded  the  sur 
veyor  with  pleased  interest.  "Well,  well!  'tis  a 
most  unexpected  worrld.  Av  'twas  the  owld  divil  him- 
silf  that  clapped  his  hand  on  me  arm  I'd  be  no  more 
surprised  than  I  was  to  see  the  lad  here.  Tell  us, 
me  bhoy,  fwhat  'tis  that's  brung  ye  here." 

"Haven't  you  two  been  to  see  Barbara  yet?"  the 
surveyor  demanded  as  though  charging  them  with 
some  neglected  duty. 

"We  have  not ;  an'  by  that  ye  will  know  that  we've 
been  in  this  town  less  than  an  hour  by  Tex's  watch 


110 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

that  Barbara  give  him  an'  that  he  lost  down  the  shaft 
at  Gold  Center." 

When  the  surveyor  had  explained  his  presence  in 
Rubio  City  and  Texas  and  Pat  had  agreed  to  join  the 
King's  Basin  party,  the  stranger  said :  "I  think  it  is 
quite  time  now  that  I  introduce  myself.  You  are 
Mr.  Lee,  I  believe." 

Abe  assented  and  with  his  two  companions  re 
garded  him  with  interest. 

Taking  a  letter  from  his  pocket  and  handing  it  to 
the  surveyor,  the  young  man  continued:  "I  am  a 
civil  engineer.  I  have  instructions  from  the  Chief  to 
report  to  you.  My  name  is  Willard  Holmes." 

The  next  morning  the  young  engineer  from  the 
East  presented  his  card  at  the  Pioneer  Bank  and 
asked  for  Mr.  Worth.  The  man  who  received  the  cor 
rectly  engraved  bit  of  pasteboard  merely  nodded 
toward  the  other  end  of  the  long  partition  of  polished 
wood,  plate  glass  and  bronze  bars.  "You'll  find  him 
back  there,  Mr.  Holmes." 

The  New  Yorker  smiled  at  the  provincialism  but 
sought  the  banker  without  further  ceremony. 

Closing  the  door  with  one  hand  Jefferson  Worth 
with  the  other  indicated  the  chair  at  the  end  of  his 
desk.  "Sit  down." 

"You  have  a  letter  from  Mr.  Greenfield  relative  to 
my  coming?"  asked  Willard  Holmes. 

The  banker  lifted  a  typewritten  sheet  from  his 
desk,  glanced  at  it  and  turned  back  to  his  visitor. 
"Yes,"  he  said. 

The  involuntary  movement  was  the  instinctive  act 


111 


THE  WINKIHG  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

of  one  who  habitually  verifies  every  statement. 
Then,  as  those  expressionless  blue  eyes  were  fixed 
on  the  stranger's  face,  the  engineer's  sensation  was 
as  though  from  behind  that  gray  mask  something 
reached  out  to  grasp  his  innermost  thoughts  and 
emotions.  He  felt  strangely  transparent  and  ex 
posed  as  one,  alone  in  his  lighted  chamber  at  night, 
might  feel  someone  in  the  dark  without,  watching 
through  the  window.  Presently  the  colorless,  exact 
voice  of  Jefferson  Worth  asked :  "This  is  your  first 
visit  West  ?" 

"Yes  sir.  My  work  has  been  altogether  in  New 
York  and  the  New  England  states." 

"Five  years  with  the  New  York  Contracting  and 
Construction  Company?"  said  Jefferson  Worth 
exactly,  laying  his  hand  again  on  the  letter  on  his 
desk. 

"Yes.  For  the  past  two  years  I  have  had  charge  of 
their  more  important  operations."  The  engineer's 
tone  was  a  shade  impressive. 

But  there  was  not  the  faintest  shadow  of  a  hint  in 
the  face  or  manner  of  that  man  in  the  revolving 
chair  to  intimate  that  he  was  impressed.  The  visitor 
might  as  well  have  spoken  to  the  steel  door  of  the  big 
safe  in  the  other  room.  "You  are  well  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Greenfield  and  his  associates?" 

"My  father  and  Mr.  Greenfield  were  boyhood 
friends  and  college  classmates,"  the  engineer  ex 
plained.  "Since  the  death  of  my  father  when  I  was 
a  little  chap,  I  have  lived  with  Uncle  Jim.  He  was 
my  guardian  until  I  became  of  age." 

The  young  man  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  add 

112 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

that  the  death  of  his  father  had  left  him  penniless 
and  that  his  father's  friend,  who  had  never  married, 
had  reared  and  educated  the  child  of  his  old  class 
mate  as  his  own  son.  Neither  did  he  explain  that  his 
rapid  advancement  in  his  profession  was  due  largely 
to  the  powerful  influence  of  the  capitalist  and  those 
closely  associated  with  him,  together  with  the 
strength  of  the  proud  social  position  to  which  he  was 
born,  rather  than  to  hard  work  and  experience. 
Probably  Willard  Holmes  himself  did  not  realize 
how  much  these  things  had  added  to  his  own  native 
ability  and  technical  training.  He  had  never  known 
anything  else  but  these  things  and  he  accepted  them 
as  unconsciously  as  his  voice  was  colored  with  the 
accent  of  the  cultured  East. 

"How  do  you  size  up  this  King's  Basin  proposi 
tion?"  questioned  the  banker. 

Again  Willard  Holmes  smiled  at  the  western  man's 
words.  "Sizing  up"  and  "proposition"  were  pleas 
ingly  novel  forms  of  expression  to  him.  "Really," 
he  answered,  "I  haven't  gone  into  it  very  thoroughly 
as  yet.  Mr.  Greenfield  asked  me  to  come  out  because 
he  and  his  associates  felt" — he  paused;  perhaps  it 
would  be  just  as  well  not  to  say  what  Mr.  Greenfield 
and  his  associates  felt — "that  with  my  experience  in 
connection  with  large  corporations  I  could  be  of  value 
to  them  in  certain  phases  of  the  work,"  he  finished. 
He  wondered  if  the  man,  who  listened  with  such  an 
air  of  carefully  considering  every  word  and  mentally 
reaching  out  for  whatever  lay  back  of  the  verbal 
expression,  had  grasped  what  he  had  been  about  to 
say. 

113 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

Jefferson  Worth  waited  and  Holmes  continued: 
k'Mr.  Greenfield  and  his  friends  are  very  anxious 
that  you  should  come  in  with  them  on  the  organiza 
tion  of  this  company,  Mr.  Worth ;  that  is,  of  course, 
providing  the  scheme  proves  to  be  practicable.  They 
instructed  me  to  urge  you  personally  to  consider  their 
proposal  favorably  and  to  ask  you,  by  all  means,  to 
represent  them  on  this  expedition  if  possible.  They 
realize  that  a  man  of  your  recognized  ability  and 
standing  in  the  financial  world,  particularly  in  th^ 
West,  in  close  touch  as  you  are  with  Capital  and 
conditions  in  this  part  of  the  country  and  no  doubt 
familiar  with  the  Reclamation  work,  would  be  a 
valuable  addition  to  their  strength.  In  fact  I  may 
say  they  would  depend  largely  upon  your  judgment 
as  to  whether  the  scheme  was  practicable  from  a 
business  standpoint.  On  your  side  I  am  sure  you 
recognize  the  advantage  of  allying  yourself  with  such 
a  group  of  capitalists,  who  are  strong  enough  to 
finance  any  undertaking,  no  matter  how  great.  Their 
interests  are  already  enormous.  As  you  know,  they 
operate  only  on  the  largest  scale  and,  if  this  survey 
justifies  the  report  already  made,  they  will  make  a 
big  thing  out  of  this  for  everyone  interested." 

The  cold,  exact  voice  of  Jefferson  Worth  came  as 
if  from  a  machine  incapable  of  inflection.  "I  have 
written  Mr.  Greenfield  that  I  would  look  into  the 
proposition  for  him.  I  will  go  out  with  the  outfit. 
Have  you  seen  Abe  Lee?" 

"I  met  him  last  night  and  we  had  a  little  talk 
over  things.  I  confess  I  was  a  little  surprised." 

"Why?" 

114 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

"Well — that  he  is  in  charge.  I  was  instructed  to 
report  to  him.  I  find  that  he  has  had  no  schooling 
whatever ;  that,  in  fact,  he  is  nothing  but  a  kind  of  a 
self-educated  surveyor.  I  have  no  doubt  that  he  is  a 
good,  practical  fellow,  but  it  seems  to  me  somewhat 
reckless  to  put  him  in  such  a  responsible  position." 

Jefferson  Worth  did  not  say  that  he  himself  had 
had  no  more  schooling  than  the  Seer's  lieutenant. 
Perhaps  that,  also,  was  not  necessary  to  explain.  He 
did  say:  "We  have  only  one  standard  in  the  West, 
Mr.  Holmes." 

"And  that?" 

"What  can  you  do  ?"  came  the  words  as  if  spoken 
by  cold  iron. 


115 


CHAPTER  VII. 
DON'T  YOU  LIKE  MY  DESERT,  MR.  HOLMES? 

IFTER  his  noon-day  meal,  Willard  Holmes, 
following  the  example  of  others,  sought  the 
shade  of  the  arcade  in  front  of  the  hotel. 
Helping  himself  to  a  chair  and  moving  a  little  away 
from  the  general  company,  he  sat  enjoying  his  cigar, 
musing  on  the  novelty  of  his  surroundings  and  re 
viewing  his  impressions  of  the  last  few  hours. 

It  was  natural  that  he  should  make  comparisons — 
that  he  should  see  men  and  things  in  the  light  of  the 
only  men  and  things  he  had  ever  known.  Abe  Lee 
he  measured  by  the  standing  of  his  own  school- 
trained  engineering  friends,  demanding  that  the 
desert-born  and  desert-trained  surveyor  exhibit  all  the 
hall-marks  of  Boston.  He  might  as  consistently  have 
demanded  that  the  flood  of  sunlight  that  fell  in  such 
blinding  glory  upon  the  new  world  before  him  should 
shine  as  through  the  smoke-grimed  city  atmosphere 
of  New  York.  One  was  no  more  impossible  than  the 
other.  Jefferson  Worth  he  compared  with  the  col 
lege  and  university  friends  of  his  father — with  Mr. 
Greenfield  and  the  New  York-bred  business  men  of 
his  class,  demanding  that  the  western  pioneer  banker 
show  the  same  characteristics  that  distinguished  the 
cultured  capitalists  whose  great-great-grandfathers 
were  pioneers.  Rubio  City  he  saw  in  the  light  of 

116 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

those  eastern  cities  that  were  founded  in  the  days 
when  men  knew  not  that  there  was  any  world  west 
of  the  Alleghanies. 

Turning  his  head  now  and  then  to  look  over  the 
typical  groups  that  sat  in  the  shade  of  the  arcade, 
dressed — or  undressed — with  all  the  easy  freedom  of 
a  land  too  young  as  yet  to  have  conventions,  he 
recalled  his  favorite  hotels  in  his  home  cities  and 
smiled  to  think  what  would  happen  if  some  of  these 
roughly  clad  individuals  were  to  appear  there  among 
the  guests.  He  did  not  know  yet  that  some  of  these 
roughly  clad  individuals  were  as  much  at  home  in 
those  same  favorite  hotels  as  was  he  himself.  Like 
wise  as  he  watched  the  passing  citizens  in  the  street 
he  recalled  the  scene  from  the  windows  of  his  club 
at  home — a  famous  club  on  a  famous  avenue. 

That  young  woman,  for  instance,  with  her  khaki 
divided  skirt,  wide  sombrero,  fringed  gauntlets  and 
the  big  western  saddle  coming  there  on  a  horse  whose 
feet  seemed  scarcely  to  touch  the  ground  as  he 
plunged  and  pranced  impatiently  along,  springing 
side-wise,  with  arched  neck  and  pointed  ears,  at  every 
object  that  could  possibly  be  made  into  something 
frightful  by  his  playful  fancy!  What  a  sensation 
she  would  create  at  home!  By  Jove!  but  she  could 
ride,  though.  He  watched  with  admiring  eyes  the 
strong,  graceful  figure  that  sat  the  high-strung, 
uncertain  horse  as  easily  and  unconsciously  as  any 
one  of  his  women  friends  at  home  would  rest  in  a 
comfortable  chair. 

As  the  horsewoman  drew  nearer  he  fell  to  wonder 
ing  what  she  was  like.  Could  she  talk,  for  instance,  of 

117 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

anything  but  the  homely  details  of  her  own  rough 
life?  He  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  fancied  her 
crude  attempts  at  conversation,  her  uncouth  lan 
guage  and  raw  expressions.  The  girl  turned  her 
horse  toward  the  hotel  entrance.  As  she  drew  still 
nearer  he  saw  that  she  was  not  pretty.  Her  mouth 
was  too  large,  her  face  too  strong,  her  skin  too  tanned 
by  the  sun  and  wind. 

At  the  sidewalk  the  girl  swung  from  the  saddle 
lightly,  and  throwing  the  bridle  reins  over  the  horse's 
head  with  a  movement  that  brought  out  the  beautiful 
lines  of  her  figure,  she  turned  her  back  upon  the 
pawing,  restless  animal  with  as  little  concern  as 
though  she  had  delivered  him  to  a  correctly  uni 
formed  groom.  No  she  was  not  pretty;  she  was — 
magnificent.  The  adjective  forced  itself  upon  him. 

All  along  the  arcade  people  were  smiling  in  greet 
ing,  the  men  lifting  their  hats.  Two  cowboys  in 
high-heeled  boots  and  achaps"  paused  in  passing. 
"That  new  hawss  of  yours  is  sure  some  hawss,  Miss 
Barbara,"  said  one  admiringly,  sombrero  in  hand. 

The  girl  smiled  and  Holmes  saw  the  flash  of  her 
perfect  teeth.  "Oh,  he'll  do,  Bob,  when  I've  worked 
him  down  a  little." 

She  passed  into  the  hotel,  followed  by  the  eyes 
of  every  man  in  sight  including  the  engineer,  who 
had  noted  with  surprise  the  purity  and  richness  of 
her  voice. 

The  New  York  man  had  turned  and  was  watching 
a  company  of  Indians  farther  down  the  street  when 
that  voice  close  beside  him  said:  "I  beg  your  par 
don.  Is  this  Mr.  Holmes  ?" 

118 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

He  turned  quickly,  rising  to  his  feet. 

She  smiled  at  his  astonished  look.  "The  clerk 
pointed  you  out  to  me.  I  am  Barbara  Worth.  You 
met  father  at  the  bank  this  morning.  Texas  Joe 
and  Pat  told  me  about  your  being  here  and  I  could 
scarcely  wait  to  see  you.  I'm  afraid  you  must  have 
thought  them  a  little  rough  last  night  but  really  it's 
only  their  fun.  They're  as  good  as  gold." 

As  she  stood  now  close  to  him — the  red  blood  glow 
ing  under  the  soft  brown  of  her  cheeks — Willard 
Holmes  felt  her  rich  personality  as  distinctly  as  one 
senses  the  presence  of  the  ocean,  the  atmosphere  of 
the  woods  or  the  air  of  meadows  and  fields.  But 
by  all  his  conventional  gods,  this  was  the  unconven 
tional  limit !  that  this  girl,  the  daughter  of  a  banker, 
should  openly  seek  out  a  total  stranger  to  introduce 
herself  to  him  on  the  public  street  before  a  crowd 
of  hotel  loungers!  And  the  way  she  spoke  of  those 
rough  men  in  the  saloon,  one  would  think  they  were 
her  intimate  friends. 

He  managed  to  say:  "Really,  I  am  delighted, 
Miss  Worth.  May  I  escort  you  to  the  hotel  parlor  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  curiously.  "Oh,  no  indeed !  It 
is  much  nicer  out  here  in  the  arcade,  don't  you  think  ? 
But  you  may  bring  another  chair." 

Dumbly  he  obeyed,  feeling  that  every  eye  was  on 
him  and  flushing  with  embarrassment  for  her. 

"When  Texa,s  and  Pat  told  me  that  you  were  one 
of  the  engineers  going  out  with  The  King's  Basin 
party  I  could  scarcely  wait  to  see  you.  It  makes  it  all 
jieem  so  real,  you  know — your  coming  all  the  way 
out  here  from  New  York.  I  have  dreamed  so  much 

119 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

about  the  reclamation  of  The  King's  Basin  Desert; 
and  you  see  I  consider  all  civil  engineers  my  personal 
friends." 

"Indeed,"  he  said.  It  is  always  safely  correct  to 
say  "indeed"  as  he  said  it,  particularly  when  you 
have  nothing  else  to  say. 

She  regarded  him  doubtfully  with  an  open, 
straight-forward  look  which  was  somewhat  discon 
certing.  She  was  so  unconscious  of  the  strength  of 
her  splendid  womanhood  and  he  felt  her  presence 
so  vividly. 

"I  suppose  you  must  find  everything  out  here  very 
strange/'  she  said  slowly.  "Father  says  this  is  your 
first  visit  to  the  West  and  of  course  it  cant  be  like 
your  part  of  the  country." 

"It  is  all  very  interesting,"  he  murmured.  This 
also  was  sane  and  safe. 

"I  know  that  Abe  is  very  busy  and  father  never 
leaves  the  bank  except  on  business,  so  there  is  no  one 
but  me  to  look  after  you" — she  smiled — "that  is — 
no  one  of  our  King's  Basin  people." 

Willard  Holmes  was  of  that  type  of  corporation 
servant  who  recognizes  no  interests  but  the  financial 
interests  of  the  capital  employing  him.  His  services 
as  a  civil  engineer  belonged  wholly  to  those  who 
bought  them  for  their  own  profit.  Barbara's  inno 
cent  words  aroused  him.  What  the  deuce  did  she 
mean  by  "our  King's  Basin  people"  ?  Greenfield 
and  his  friends  thought  that  they  were  The  King's 
Basin  people.  In  the  interests  of  his  employers  he 
must  look  into  this. 


120 


"But  I  don't  ride,  you  know" 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you,  I  am  sure/'  he  said  with 
a  little  more  warmth.  "To  tell  the  truth  I  was 
feeling  a  bit  strange,  you  know." 

"I'm  sure  you  must  be  nearly  dead  with  lone- 
someness.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  go  for  a  ride?  I 
would  so  like  to  show  you  my  Desert." 

"Her  Desert!"  he  mentally  observed.  Indeed  he 
must  look  into  this.  Fully  alert  now  he  answered 
heartily:  "I  should  be  delighted,  I'm  sure.  You 
are  more  than  kind.  When  could  we  go  ?" 

"Right  now,"  she  said  quickly.  "Here  comes 
Pablo  Garcia.  I'll  send  him  for  another  horse." 
She  called  to  the  passing  Mexican:  "Here  Pablo." 

The  young  fellow  came  to  her  quickly  and  stood, 
sombrero  in  hand,  his  dark  eyes  shining  with  pride 
at  the  recognition.  In  Spanish  she  directed  him  to 
fetch  a  horse  for  the  Senor. 

"Si,  Senorita."  With  a  low  bow  the  Mexican 
turned  to  obey. 

The  eastern  man,  not  understanding  the  words, 
but  awakening  suddenly  to  the  meaning  of  the  action, 
broke  forth  with — "Here,  wait  a  minute." 

"Wait,"  repeated  Barbara  in  Spanish.  Pablo 
paused. 

"You  are  sending  him  for  a  horse  and  saddle?" 
asked  Holmes. 

"Yes ;  it  will  take  only  a  few  minutes." 

"But  I  don't  ride,  you  know." 

"You  don't  ride?"  The  girl  looked  at  him  in 
blank  amazement.  "I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a  man 
before  who  didn't  ride." 


121 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

He  laughed  indulgently.  Something  in  her  voice 
and  manner  touched  his  sense  of  humor.  "I'm  very 
sorry.  I  know  I  ought  to,"  he  said  in  mock  humility. 

"Oh,  well;  we  can  drive.  I'll  have  Pablo  bring  a 
rig."  She  explained  what  she  wanted  to  the  Mexican 
in  his  native  tongue,  and  this  time  he  mounted  her 
horse  and  rode  away. 

When  the  man  returned  a  little  later  with  a  span 
of  restless,  half-wild  broncos  hitched  to  a  light  buggy, 
the  girl  stepped  into  the  vehicle  and  took  the  reins 
as  a  matter  of  course.  With  a  low  chuckle  of  amuse 
ment  the  engineer  took  his  place  at  her  left.  He 
was  beginning  really  to  enjoy  the  situation.  Shying 
anc  plunging  the  team  demanded  all  of  Barbara's 
attention  but  she  managed  to  steal  a  look  at  her  silent 
companion  now  and  then,  as  if  expecting  him  to 
show  signs  of  nervousness.  Willard  Holmes,  on  his 
part,  was  wrapped  in  silent  admiration  of  her 
strength  and  skill. 

"They'll  cool  down  in  a  little  while,"  the  girl  vol 
unteered,  as  if  to  reassure  her  guest,  after  a  particu 
larly  wild  break  on  the  part  of  the  horses.  But  on 
the  extreme  edge  of  town,  where  the  wagon  road  runs 
closest  to  the  railroad  track,  a  passing  switch  engine 
proved  too  much  for  the  excited  team.  In  a  moment 
the  frightened  animals  were  running  toward  the 
Mesa  at  full  speed.  With  all  her  strength  Barbara 
struggled  to  regain  control,  but  her  arms  wrere  a 
woman's  arms  and  the  horses,  quick  to  recognize  their 
advantage,  put  back  their  ears  and  ran  the  faster  in 
mad  defiance. 

The  girl  was  not  frightened;  she  was  annoyed. 

122 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"I — I'm  afraid  they  are  running  away,"  she  gasped 
at  last. 

To  her  surprise  a  hearty  laugh  was  the  only  answer 
to  her  confession.  She  shot  a  quick  glance  over  her 
left  shoulder.  Her  companion  was  leaning  back  in 
his  seat,  his  merry  face  expressing  the  keenest  enjoy 
ment. 

Then  the  girl  felt  a  big  hard  shoulder  pressing 
against  her ;  long  powerful  arms  stretched  over  hers ; 
and  two  masterful  hands  closed  on  the  reins  above 
her  cramped  fingers.  She  relinquished  her  hold  and 
shrank  back  out  of  the  way  with  a  sigh  of  relief  and 
— yes,  a  look  of  admiration  as  the  horses,  with  a  few 
wild  leaps  and  ineffectual  attempts  to  run  again, 
settled  down  to  a  more  rational  gait. 

"My!"  she  gasped,  at  the  exhibition  of  the  engi 
neer's  strength,  "I  believe  you  could  pull  their  front 
feet  off  the  ground." 

Her  companion  was  still  smiling. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  could  drive?"  she 
demanded. 

He  chuckled  maliciously,  for  he  had  understood 
her  reason  for  taking  the  reins  at  the  start  and  he 
had  not  been  insensible  of  the  meaning  of  her  glances 
at  the  beginning  of  the  ride.  "You  didn't  ask  me, 
and  besides  I  enjoyed  seeing  you  handle  them." 

"But  you  told  me  you  couldn't  ride"  she  said 
reproachfully. 

"I  can't,"  he  returned.  "That  is  I  never  did ;  not 
as  you  people  in  this  country  ride."  Then  he  laughed 
again.  "Confess  now.  Didn't  you  expect  me  to 
jump,  back  there  ?" 

123 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

"I  shall  confess  nothing/'  she  retorted,  sharply. 
"And  hereafter  I  shall  take  nothing  for  granted." 

On  the  high  ground  near  the  foot  of  the  hill  at  the 
canyon's  mouth  she  asked  him  to  turn  around  and 
stop.  Willard  Holmes  had  been  too  much  occupied 
with  the  team  and  the  girl  to  notice  the  landscape; 
and  now  that  wonderful  view  of  the  Mesa,  The 
King's  Basin  and  the  mountains  burst  upon  him 
without  warning.  No  sane  man  could  be  insensible 
of  the  grandeur  of  that  scene.  The  man,  whose 
eyes  had  looked  only  upon  eastern  landscapes  that 
bore  in  every  square  foot  of  their  limited  range  the 
evidence  of  man's  presence,  was  silent — awe-stricken 
before  the  mighty  expanse  of  desert  that  lay  as  it  was 
fashioned  by  the  creative  forces  that  formed  the 
world.  Turning  at  last  from  the  glorious,  ever- 
changing  scenes,  wrought  in  colors  of  gold  and  rose 
and  lilac  and  purple  and  blue,  to  the  girl  whose  eyes 
were  fixed  questioningly  upon  him,  he  said  in  a  low 
voice :  "Is  it  always  like  this  ?" 

Barbara  nodded.  "Always  like  that,  but  always 
changing.  It  is  never  the  same,  but  always  the  same. 
Like — like  life  itself.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

He  turned  again  to  the  scene  in  silent  wonder. 

"Do  you  like  my  Desert  ?"  she  asked,  after  a  little 
time  had  passed. 

His  mind  caught  at  the  expression.  "Do  you  mean 
to  say  that  that  is  The  King's  Basin — that  we  are 
going  there  to  work  ?" 

"Why,  of  course."  She  laughed  uneasily.  "Don't 
you  like  it  ?" 


124 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

"Like  it?"  he  repeated.  "But  is  there  anyone 
living  out  there  ?" 

She  was  amazed  at  his  words.  "Living  there? 
Of  course  not.  But  you  are  going  to  make  it  so  that 
thousands  and  thousands  can  live  there — you  and 
the  others.  Don't  you  understand?"  Her  voice 
expressed  a  shade  of  impatience. 

"I'm  afraid  I  did  not  realize,"  he  answered  slowly. 

"That's  just  it!"  she  cried,  thoroughly  aroused 
now  and  speaking  passionately.  "That's  just  the 
trouble  with  you  eastern  men;  you  don't  realize. 
For  years  the  dear  old  Seer  and  a  few  others  have 
been  trying  to  make  you  see  what  a  work  there  is  to 
do  out  here,  and  you  won't  even  look  up  from  your 
little  old  truck  patches  to  give  them  intelligent  atten 
tion.  You  think  this  King's  Basin  is  big  ?  Why,  the 
Seer  says  that  if  every  foot  of  that  land  was  under 
cultivation  it  wouldn't  be  a  posy  bed  beside  what 
there  is  to  do  in  the  West.  I  suppose  you  must  have 
done  some  great  things  in  your  profession,  Mr. 
Holmes,  or  those  capitalists  wouldn't  have  sent  you 
out  here ;  but  you  can't  have  done  anything  that  will 
mean  to  the  world  what  the  reclamation  of  The 
King's  Basin  Desert  will  mean  one  hundred  years 
from  now,  because  this  work  is  going  to  make  the 
people  realize,  don't  you  see  ?" 

The  young  engineer's  face  flushed  under  her 
words,  and  as  he  watched  her  strong  face  glowing 
with  enthusiasm  for  the  Seer's  dream,  he  felt  the 
sweet  power  of  her  personality  sweep  over  him  as  he 
felt  the  breeze  from  off  the  desert.  He  was  held  as 


125 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WORTH 

though  by  some  magic  spell — not  by  the  lure  of  her 
splendid  womanhood,  but  by  that  and  something  else 
— something  that  was  like  the  country  of  which  she 
spoke  so  passionately.  And  he  remembered  wonder 
ing  if  this  girl  could  talk ! 

He  relieved  the  tense  strain  of  the  situation  by 
holding  out  the  reins  and  saying,  with  a  whimsical 
smile : 

"Here,  you  can  drive." 

She  caught  his  meaning  and  smiled  in  acknowl 
edgment.  " Thank  you,  but  I  don't  want  to  drive. 
That's  really  the  man's  part,  you  know.  I  suppose," 
she  added,  "that  you  think  me  bold  and  mannish  and 
coarse  and  everything  else  that  a  girl  ought  not  to  be, 
but  I" — she  turned  away  her  face  and  her  voice 
trembled — "but  you  can't  understand,  Mr.  Holmes, 
what  this  desert  means  to  me." 

"Perhaps  I  don't  understand,"  he  said  seriously. 
"But  I  am  sure  of  this:  somewhere  back  of  every 
really  great  work  that  has  ever  been  accomplished  in 
any  age  there  has  been  a  woman  like  you." 

Then  they  drove  back  to  the  hotel  where  she  left 
him  and  drove  to  the  barn  herself.  A  few  minutes 
later  he  saw  her  pass  again,  riding  her  own  quick- 
stepping  horse. 

During  the  two  weeks  that  followed  before  the 
Seer's  return,  while  Abe  Lee  was  busy  getting  ready 
for  the  work  in  Barbara's  Desert,  Willard  Holmes 
and  the  girl  were  often  together.  The  man  from 
~N~ew  York  admitted  somewhat  proudly,  Barbara 
thought — as  if  the  very  confession  somehow  estab 
lished  the  superiority  of  the  East — that  he  was  shock- 

126 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

ingly  ignorant  of  all  things  Western.  But  appar 
ently  overlooking  the  subtle  assumption  in  the  man 
ner  of  his  confession,  she  laughingly  undertook  his 
education.  For  one  thing  he  must  learn  to  ride. 

"Really,"  he  demurred,  "I  don't  think  I  care  for 
that  particular  amusement.  I  have  never  taken  it  up 
at  home,  you  know,  but  of  course  if  it  is  the  thing  to 
do,  why — " 

"Amusement!"  she  laughed.  "Riding  isn't  an 
amusement ;  it's  a  necessity.  The  horse  is  our  street 
car  and  railroad  and  steamboat.  Where  you  think 
city  blocks  and  squares  we  think  miles;  and  where 
you  think  miles  we  think  hundreds  of  miles.  Two 
legs  are  not  enough  in  this  country,  so  we  double  the 
number  and  go  on  four.  You'll  find  yourself  wishing 
for  eight  before  you  get  back  from  The  King's 
Basin." 

So,  at  her  bidding,  Texas  Joe  secured  a  horse  for 
him  and  almost  every  afternoon  the  two  were  in  their 
saddles.  And  every  night  over  his  evening  cigar  at 
the  hotel  the  engineer  found  himself  reviewing  the 
incidents  and  conversations  of  the  ride;  forced  to 
wonder  at  some  new  and  unexpected  revelation  of  the 
mind  and  character  of  this  western  girl  who  was  so 
interested  in  the  reclamation  work  and  so  uncon 
scious  of  her  womanly  power.  He  came  quickly  to 
look  forward  to  their  hours  together  and  to  plan  and 
carry  out  many  conversational  experiments.  Invari 
ably  he  had  his  reward. 

One  afternoon  he  tried  skillfully  to  shape  the  con 
versation  to  the  end  that  he  might  tell  her — quite 
without  ostentation — of  the  proud  history  and  social 

127 


THE  WrraXNTG  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

position  of  his  family  and  of  his  own  rank  in  the 
upper  eastern  world. 

She  humored  him  patiently,  helping  him  out  with 
questions  and  artless,  admiring  exclamations  and 
comments,  until  he  was  quite  sure  that  she  was  prop 
erly  impressed.  Then  she  said,  in  a  tone  of  honest 
sympathy :  "But  you  mustn't  let  all  this  worry  you, 
you  know." 

"Worry  me  ?"  he  echoed  in  amazement. 

She  nodded  seriously,  but  with  a  glint  of  mischief 
in  her  eyes.  "Yes,  I  can  understand  that  it  must  be 
hard  for  a  man  to  do  his  work  handicapped  as  you 
are  but  no  one  away  out  here  will  count  it  against 
you.  Every  man  here  has  a  chance  no  matter  what 
his  past  has  been.  You  see,  we  don't  care  what  a 
man  has  been  or  what  his  fathers  were ;  we  accept 
him  for  what  he  is  and  value  him  for  what  he  can  do. 
So  all  you  need  to  do  is  to  forget  and  go  straight 
ahead  with  your  work  and  you'll  easily  live  it  down. 
Only,  of  course,"  she  added  gently,  "I  wouldn't 
advise  you  to  tell  everybody  what  you  have  told  me. 
Some  might  not  understand." 

He  retorted  warmly:  "Of  course  you  cannot 
understand  our  point  of  view.  Everything  is  so  new 
and  raw  out  here  that  you  have  no  social  standards." 

"New  and  raw?"  She  laughed  again.  "Why, 
Mr.  Holmes,  you  are  the  only  new  thing  in  this 
country.  Do  you  see  that  man  over  there  ?" 

They  were  riding  south  on  the  road  that  follows 
the  river  and  she  pointed  to  an  Indian  who  sat  idly 
in  the  shade  of  his  pole  and  mud  hut. 


128 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

"What's  the  matter  with  him?"  asked  the  engi 
neer. 

"Nothing.  Only  he,  too,  has  ancestors.  Ages 
and  ages  before  your  forefathers  knew  that  this  con 
tinent  existed,  that  man's  people  lived  in  a  city  not 
far  from  here — a  city  with  laws,  customs,  religions, 
social  standards — yes,  and  civil  engineers,  for  you 
can  easily  trace  the  lines  of  their  canals,  in  which 
they  brought  water  from  the  river  and  carried  it 
through  a  tunnel  in  the  mountains  to  irrigate  their 
land,  just  as  you  modern  engineers  are  planning  to 
do.  The  Seer  and  I  rode  over  there  once  and  he  told 
me  about  it.  I'll  show  you,  if  you  like.  New  !  Why 
the  West  was  ages  old  before  the  East  was  discovered ! 
The  Seer  says  that  if  Columbus  had  come  first  to  the 
western  coast  "New  England  to-day  would  still  be  an 
uninhabitable,  howling  wilderness." 

"But  I  don't  see  what  all  this  has  to  do  with  social 
standards,"  he  said,  nettled  at  her  reply. 

"Simply  this.  If  a  man's  position  in  life  is  to  be 
fixed  by  the  age  of  his  family  or  the  number  of  years 
that  they  have  occupied  a  certain  section  of  the  coun 
try,  then  that  Indian  is  your  superior.  His  ances 
tors  lived  here  long  before  yours  settled  in  New 
England." 

"But  we  are  proud  of  our  ancestors  because  of 
what  they  were  and  what  they  accomplished.  We 
have  a  right  to  be.  Think  of  what  the  world  owes 
them!" 

"Oh,  I  must  have  misunderstood  you.  You  seemed 
to  place  so  much  emphasis  on  their  having  come  over 


129 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBARA  WORTH 

in  the  Mayflower.  They  were  grand  -those  brave 
old  pioneers.  I  am  proud  of  them  too  for  what  they 
were.  And  did  they  have  social  positions  by  which 
they  fixed  a  man's  place  in  life,  I  wonder  ?" 

"Of  course  they  could  not  have  had  a  society  with 
the  wealth  and  culture  that  we  have  now.  The 
country  was  all  new — something  like  the  West  is 
to-day,  I  suppose." 

She  laughed  aloud.  "And  you  are  proud  of  them ! 
How  fine!  Isn't  it  splendid  to  think  that  in  two  or 
three  hundred  years,  when  the  West  has  been  civil 
ized  and  the  Desert  reclaimed  as  your  pioneer  fore 
fathers  civilized  and  reclaimed  the  East,  when  wealth 
and  culture  have  come,  a  man's  social  standing  will 
be  determined  by  his  relation  to  us  and  people  will 
be  proud  of  what  we  are  doing?  After  all,  Mr. 
Holmes,  the  only  difference  between  the  East  and  the 
West  seems  to  be  that  you  have  ancestors  and  that  we 
are  going  to  be  ancestors.  You  look  back  to  what  has 
been;  we  look  forward  to  what  will  be.  You  are 
proud  and  take  rank  because  of  what  your  fore 
fathers  did;  we  are  proud  and  take  rank  because  of 
what  we  are  doing.  And  we  are  doing  exactly  what 
they  did !  Honestly  now,  which  would  you  rather — 
worship  an  ancestor  or  be  an  ancestor  worshipped  ?" 

When  they  had  laughed  together  over  this  he  said : 
"I  am  beginning  to  understand,  Miss  Worth,  that  the 
ideal  American,  whom  we  are  always  hearing  about 
but  never  meet,  must  be  a  Westerner;  he  couldn't 
possibly  be  of  the  East,  could  he  ?"  His  words  were 
almost  a  sneer. 

"The    ideal    American    is    neither    Eastern    nor 

130 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

Western  in  the  way  you  mean,  Mr.  Holmes.  He  is 
both." 

"Indeed  ?  You  admit  that  we  of  the  East  could 
give  him  something,  then  ?" 

"You  could  give  him  all  that  your  forefathers  have 
given  you." 

"And  what  could  the  West  give  him  ?" 

She  looked  at  him  steadily  a  moment  before  an 
swering  slowly:  "I  think  you  will  have  to  find  that 
out  for  yourself." 

He  was  taken  a  little  aback  by  her  answer.  It 
sounded  as  though  she  wished  to  end  the  conversation. 
But  her  talk  had  stirred  him  strongly,  though  he 
tried  to  hide  this  under  cover  of  a  cynical  tone.  He 
said  triumphantly:  "But  you  see,  after  all,  you 
admit  that  one  is  not  altogether  hopeless  because  he 
happens  to  come  of  a  good  family!" 

"Certainly  I  admit  it!"  she  cried,  "but  don't  you 
see  what  I  mean  ?  Ancestors  are  to  be  counted  as  a 
valuable  asset,  but  not  as  working  capital." 

As  she  spoke  she  turned  toward  him  again  with 
that  steady  look,  and  the  man  felt  the  strange,  mys 
terious  power  of  her  personality,  the  challenging  lure 
of  her  young  womanhood — that  and  more.  What 
was  it  back  of  those  steady  eyes  that  called  to  him, 
inspired  him,  that  almost  frightened  him ;  that  made 
him  feel  as  Barbara  herself  felt  in  the  presence  of 
the  Desert. 

There  was  no  trace  of  cynicism  in  his  voice  now, 
nor  any  hint  of  a  sneer  on  his  face,  as  Willard 
Holmes  straightened  unconsciously  in  his  saddle. 

"By  George!"  he  said,  "it's  good  to  hear  you  say 

131 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA.  WORTH 

those  things.  Nobody  talks  that  way  nowadays.  I 
suppose  our  great-great-grandmothers  did,  though." 

She  colored  with  pleasure,  but  answered  lightly: 
"That  puts  me  a  long  ways  behind  the  times,  doesn't 
it!" 

"Or  a  long  way  ahead,"  he  offered. 

In  the  meantime,  while  the  education  of  Willard 
Holmes  progressed,  the  party  that  was  to  make  the 
first  survey  in  Barbara's  Desert  was  being  formed 
and  equipped  under  the  direction  of  Abe  Lee. 
Horses,  mules,  wagons,  camp  outfits  and  supplies, 
with  Indian  and  Mexican  laborers,  teamsters  of  sev 
eral  nationalities  and  here  and  there  a  Chinese  cook, 
were  assembled.  Toward  the  last  from  every  part 
of  the  great  West  country  came  the  surveyors  and 
engineers — sunburned,  khaki-clad  men  most  of  them, 
toughened  by  their  out-of-doors  life,  overflowing  with 
health  and  good  spirits.  They  hailed  one  another 
joyously  and  greeted  Abe  with  extravagant  delight, 
overwhelming  him  with  questions.  For  the  word  had 
gone  out  that  the  Seer,  beloved  by  all  the  tribe,  and 
his  lieutenant,  almost  equally  beloved,  were  making 
"big  medicine"  in  The  King's  Basin  Desert.  Not  a 
man  of  them  would  have  exchanged  his  chance  to  go 
for  a  crown  and  scepter. 

The  eastern  engineer  met  these  hardened  profes 
sional  brothers  cordially.  He  listened  to  their  rem 
iniscences  of  life  and  work  in  mountain,  plain  and 
desert  with  interest,  discovering  to  his  surprise  that 
most  of  them  were  eastern  born  and  bred,  with 
technical  training  in  the  schools  with  which  he  was 
familiar.  But  their  almost  boyish  enthusiasm  over 

132 


THE  WIKNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

the  work  ahead,  their  admiration  for  the  Chief  and 
for  Abe  Lee  he  viewed  with  cold  indifference. 

With  all  his  duties  Abe  found  frequent  oppor 
tunity  to  report  to  Barbara,  for  the  girl's  interest  in 
every  detail  of  the  preparations  was  never  failing. 
Her  friends  protested  that  they  never  saw  her  now 
at  their  little  social  affairs,  for  she  was  always  off 
somewhere  with  some  engineer,  and  that  when  they 
did  chance  to  catch  her  alone  she  would  talk  of  noth 
ing  but  that  horrid  King's  Basin  country. 

Every  evening,  early  after  supper,  the  surveyor 
would  slip  away  from  his  companions  at  the  hotel 
to  spend  an  hour  on  the  veranda  at  the  banker's  home 
talking  in  his  straightforward  way  with  Barbara 
and  her  father,  of  the  work  that  was  so  dear  to  the 
heart  of  the  girl.  And  because  it  was  his  work  and 
in  the  nature  of  a  report  to  one  who,  he  felt,  had  in 
some  subtle  way  authority  to  hear,  Abe  talked  with 
a  freedom  that  would  have  astonished  many  of  his 
friends  who  thought  they  knew  him  best. 

Three  times  while  Abe  was  there  Willard  Holmes 
appeared,  and  each  time,  at  the  engineer's  presence, 
the  surveyor's  painful  diffidence  became  apparent  and 
he  soon — with  some  stammering  excuse — left. 

The  last  time  this  happened  Barbara  walked  down 
to  the  gate  with  the  painfully  embarrassed  surveyor. 
Everything  was  in  readiness  for  the  coming  of  the 
Chief,  who  would  arrive  the  next  day,  and  the  follow 
ing  morning  the  expedition  would  start  for  the  field. 

"Buenos  noches,  hermano — Good  night,  brother/'' 
called  Barbara,  as  the  tall  surveyor  walked  away 
down  the  street. 

133 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"Buenos  noches,"  came  the  answer. 

Willard  Holmes  heard  and  frowned.  "You  seem 
to  be  very  fond  of  Spanish,  Miss  Worth,"  he  said, 
when  the  girl  came  back  to  the  porch.  "I  notice  you 
use  it  so  often  with  our  long  friend  there." 

Barbara  laughed  at  his  evident  displeasure.  "The 
language  seems  to  belong  so  to  this  country.  To  me 
its  colors  are  all  soft  and  warm  like  the  colors  of  the 
Desert.  I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but  I  suppose 
I  use  it  so  often  with  Abe  because  he,  too,  seems  to 
belong  to  this  country." 

The  engineer  looked  at  her  curiously.  "I  don't 
think  I  quite  see  the  connection.  You  mean  that  he 
has  Spanish  blood  ?" 

"Not  at  all,"  said  Barbara  quickly.  "But  he  is 
desert-born  and  desert-trained.  He  has  the  same 
patient  stillness,  the  same  natural  bigness  and  the 
same  unconquerable  hardness." 

"Oh,  but  you  say  the  desert  is  not  unconquerable ; 
that  it  will  be  subdued.  Your  analogy  is  at  fault." 

"No,  Mr.  Holmes,  it  is  you  who  do  not  understand. 
There  is  something  about  this  country  that  will 
always  remain  as  it  is  now.  Abe  Lee  is  like  that. 
Whatever  changes  may  come,  he  will  always  be  Abe 
Lee  of  the  Desert." 

"Your  views  are  really  poetical  and  your  character 
analyses  very  clever,  Miss  Worth,  but  after  all  men 
are  men  wherever  you  find  them.  Human  nature  is 
the  same  the  world  over." 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  that  is  so,  Mr.  Holmes.  I  know 
there  must  be  many  western  men  in  the  east,  only 
they  haven't  found  themselves  yet  " 

134 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

He  laughed  heartily  as  he  rose  to  go.  "Will  you 
ever  bid  me  good  night  in  your  language  of  the 
desert  ?"  he  asked. 

"Perhaps,  when  you  have  learned  that  language," 
she  said  with  an  answering  smile. 

"By  George,  I  shall  try  to  learn  it,"  he  answered. 

"Oh,  I  wish  you  would,"  came  the  earnest  answer. 
"I  know  you  could." 

And  again  the  engineer  felt  strongly,  back  of  her 
words,  that  unvoiced  appeal.  As  he  went  down  the 
street  he  knew  that  she  did  not  refer  to  the  Spanish 
tongue  when  she  wished  him  to  learn  the  language  of 
her  Desert. 

Alone  in  her  room  that  night  Barbara's  mind  was 
too  active  for  sleep  and  she  sat  for  a  long  time  by  the 
open  window,  looking  out  into  the  vast  silent  world 
under  the  still  stars. 

Until  she  introduced  herself  to  Willard  Holmes, 
Barbara  had  never  known  eastern  people.  Tourists 
she  had  seen  and,  at  rare  intervals,  met  in  a  casual 
way.  But  they  had  always  examined  her  with  such 
frankly  curious  eyes  that  she  had  felt  like  some 
strange  animal  on  exhibition  and  had  repaid  their 
interest  with  all  the  indifference  she  could  command. 
Occasionally  also  she  had  been  introduced  to  eastern 
business  men,  whom  she  chanced  upon  talking  with 
her  father  in  the  bank,  but  they  had  turned  quickly 
away  to  the  matters  of  their  world  after  the  usual 
polite  nothings  demanded  by  the  introduction.  The 
home-land  and  life  of  Willard  Holmes  were  as  for 
eign  to  her  as  her  land  and  life  were  strange  to  him. 

So  it  happened  in  this  instance  also  that  in  the 

135' 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

education  of  the  eastern  engineer  the  teacher  learned 
quite  as  much  as  the  pupil. 

The  traits  that  stood  out  so  prominently  in  the 
western  men  whom  Barbara  knew  and  so  much 
admired  were,  in  Willard  Holmes,  buried  deeply 
under  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  life  and  thought 
of  the  world  to  which  he  belonged — buried  so  deeply 
that  the  man  himself  scarcely  realized  that  they 
were  there  and  so  was  led  to  wonder  at  himself  when 
his  blood  tingled  with  some  strong  presentation  of 
this  western  girl's  views. 

But  Barbara  knew.  Beneath  the  conventionalities 
of  his  class  the  girl  felt  the  man  a  powerful  char 
acter,  with  all  the  latent  strength  of  his  nation- 
building  ancestors.  She  wanted  him — as  she  put  it 
to  herself — to  wake  up.  Would  he  ?  Would  he  learn 
the  language  of  her  Desert?  She  believed  that  he 
would,  even  as  she  believed  in  the  reclamation  of 
The  King's  Basin  lands. 

And  she  was  glad — glad  that  the  Seer  and  Abe  and 
Tex  and  Pat  and  her  father — the  men  who  had 
brought  her  out  of  the  Desert — were  going  now  back 
into  that  land  of  death  to  save  that  land  itself  from 
itself.  And — she  whispered  it  softly  under  the  stars 
— she  was  glad — glad  that  Willard  Holmes  had  come 
to  go  with  them — to  learn  the  language  of  her  land. 


136 


CHAPTEK  VIII. 
WHY  WILLARD  HOLMES  STAYED. 

LOWLY,  day  by  day,  the  surveying  party 
under  the  Seer  pushed  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  awful  desolation  of  The  King's 
Basin  Desert.  They  were  the  advance  force  of  a 
mighty  armj  ordered  ahead  by  Good  Business — the 
master  passion  of  the  race.  Their  duty  was  to  learn 
the  strength  of  the  enemy,  to  measure  its  resources, 
to  spy  out  its  weaknesses  and  to  gather  data  upon 
which  a  campaign  would  be  planned. 

Under  the  Seer  the  expedition  was  divided  into 
several  smaller  parties,  each  of  which  was  assigned 
to  certain  defined  districts.  Here  and  there,  at  seem 
ingly  careless  intervals  in  the  wide  expanse,  the  white 
tents  of  the  division  camps  shone  through  the  many 
colored  veils  of  the  desert.  Tall,  thin  columns  of 
dust  lifted  into  the  sky  from  the  water  wagons  that 
crawled  ceaselessly  from  water  hole  to  camp  and 
from  camp  to  water  hole — hung  in  long  clouds  above 
the  supply  train  laboring  heavily  across  the  dun  plain 
to  and  from  Kubio  City — or  rose  in  quick  puffs  and 
twisting  spirals  from  the  feet  of  some  saddle  horse 
bearing  a  messenger  from  the  Chief  to  some  distant 
lieutenant. 

Every  morning,  from  each  of  the  camps,  squads  of 
khaki-clad  men  bearing  transit  and  level,  stake  and 

137 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

pole  and  flag — the  weapons  of  their  warfare — put 
out  in  different  directions  into  the  vast  silence  that 
seemed  to  engulf  them.  Every  evening  the  squads 
returned,  desert-stained  and  weary,  to  their  rest 
under  the  lonesome  stars.  Every  morning  the  sun 
broke  fiercely  up  from  the  long  level  of  the  eastward 
plain  to  pour  its  hot  strength  down  upon  these  pigmy 
creatures,  who  dared  to  invade  the  territory  over 
which  he  had,  for  so  many  ages,  held  undisputed 
dominion.  Every  evening  the  sun  plunged  fiercely 
down  behind  the  purple  wall  of  mountains  that  shut 
in  the  Basin  on  the  west,  as  if  to  gather  strength  in 
some  nether  world  for  to-morrow's  fight. 

Always  there  was  the  same  flood  of  white  light 
from  the  deep,  dry  sky  that  was  uncrossed  by  shred 
of  cloud ;  always  the  same  wide,  tawny  waste,  harshly 
glaring  near  at  hand — filled  with  awful  mysteries 
under  the  many  colored  mists  of  the  distance;  until 
the  eyes  ached  and  the  soul  cried  out  in  wonder  at 
it  all.  Always  there  were  the  same  deep  nights,  with 
the  lonely  stars  so  far  away  in  the  velvet  purple 
darkness;  the  soft  breathing  of  the  desert;  the 
pungent  smell  of  greasewood  and  salt-bush;  the 
weird,  quavering  call  of  the  ground  owl ;  or  the  wild 
coyote  chorus,  as  if  the  long  lost  spirits  of  long  ago 
savage  races  cried  out  a  dreadful  warning  to  these 
invaders. 

And  in  all  of  this  the  land  made  itself  felt  against 
these  men  in  the  silent  menace,  the  still  waiting,  the 
subtle  call,  the  promise,  the  threat  and  the  challenge 
of  La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios. 

To  Barbara,  who  rode  often  in  those  days  to  the 

138 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

very  rim  of  the  Basin,  there  to  search  the  wild,  wide 
land  with  straining  eyes  for  signs  of  her  friends,  the 
white  glare  of  the  camps  was  lost  in  the  bewildering 
maze  of  color.  The  columns,  clouds  and  spirals  of 
dust — save  perhaps  from  a  near  supply  wagon  corning 
in  or  passing  out — could  not  be  distinguished  from 
the  whirling  dust-devils  that  danced  always  over  the 
hot  plains.  The  toiling  pigmy  dots  of  the  little  army 
were  far  beyond  her  vision's  range.  It  was  as  though 
the  fierce  land  had  swallowed  up  horses,  wagons  and 
men.  Only  through  the  frequent  letters  brought  by 
the  freighters  did  she  know  that  all  was  going  well. 

Perhaps  the  gray  lizard  that  climbed  to  the  top 
of  a  line  stake  wondered  at  the  strange  new  growth 
that  had  sprung  so  suddenly  from  the  familiar  soil ; 
or  perhaps  the  horned-toad,  scuttling  to  cover,  mar 
veled  at  the  strange  sounds  as  the  stakes  were  driven 
and  man  called  to  man  figures  and  directions. 
Perhaps  the  scaly  side-winder,  springing  his  warning 
rattle  at  the  approaching  step,  questioned  what  new 
enemy  this  was ;  or  the  lone  buzzard,  wheeling  high 
over  head,  watched  the  tiny  moving  figures  with 
wondering  hopefulness,  and  the  coyote,  that  hushed 
for  a  little  his  wild  music  to  follow  up  the  wind  this 
strange  new  scent,  laughed  at  the  Seer's  dream. 

These  lines  of  stakes  that  every  day  stretched 
farther  and  farther  into  and  across  the  waste  seemed, 
in  the  wideness  of  the  land,  pitifully  foolish.  Looking 
back  over  the  lines,  the  men  who  set  them  could 
scarcely  distinguish  the  way  they  had  come.  But 
they  knew  that  the  stakes  were  there.  They  knew1 
that  some  day  that  other,  mightier  company,  the  main 

139 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

army,  would  move  along  the  way  they  had  marked 
to  meet  the  strength  of  the  barren  waste  with  the 
strength  of  the  great  river  and  take  for  the  race  the 
wealth  of  the  land.  The  sound  of  human  voices  was 
flat  and  ineffectual  in  that  age-old  solitude,  but  the 
speakers  knew  that  following  their  feeble  voices 
would  come  the  shouting,  ringing,  thundering  chorus 
of  the  life  that  was  to  follow  them  into  that  silent 
land  of  death. 

With  the  slow  passing  of  the  weeks  came  the  trying- 
out  and  testing  of  character  inevitable  to  such  a 
work.  The  concealing  habits  of  civilization  were 
dropped.  Kindly,  useful  conventionalities  were  lost. 
Face  to  face  with  the  unconquered  forces  of  nature, 
nothing  remained  but  the  real  strength  or  weakness 
of  the  individual  himself.  In  some  there  were 
developed  unguessed  powers  of  endurance  that  bore 
the  hard  days  without  flinching;  cheerful  optimism 
that  laughed  at  the  appalling  immensity  of  the  task ; 
strength  of  spirit  that  made  a  jest  of  galling  discom 
forts;  courage  that  smiled  in  the  face  of  dangers. 
These  were  the  strength  of  the  party.  Some  there 
were  who  grew  sullen,  quarrelsome,  and  vicious  in  a 
kind  of  mad  rebellion.  These  must  be  held  in  check, 
controlled  and  governed  by  the  Seer  with  the  assist 
ance  of  Abe  Lee  and  his  helpers.  Some  became  silent 
and  moody,  faint  hearted  and  afraid.  These  were 
strengthened  and  guarded  and  given  fresh  courage. 
Some  grew  peevish  and  fretful,  whining  and  com 
plaining.  These  were  disciplined  wisely,  forced 
gently  into  line.  Some  staggered  and  fell  by  the 


140 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

way.     These  were  sent  back  and  the  ranks  closed  up. 
But  the  work — always  the  work  went  on. 

To  Willard  Holmes  the  life  was  a  slow  torture,  a 
revelation  and  an  education.  He  found  himself 
stripped  of  everything  upon  which  he  was  accustomed 
to  rely — family  traditions,  social  position,  influential 
friends,  scholarship,  experience  in  the  world  to  which 
he  was  born — all  these  were  nothing  in  The  Hollow 
of  God's  Hand.  Slowly  he  learned  that  the  power  of 
such  wealth  is  limited  to  certain  fields.  New  York 
was  very  far  away.  He  felt  that  he  had  been  hope 
lessly  banished  to  a  strange  world.  Many  times  he 
would  have  thrown  it  all  up  and  turned  back  with 
other  deserters,  but  there  was  red  blood  in  his  veins. 
Stubborn  pride  and  the  thought  of  the  girl  who  had 
hoped  that  he  would  "learn  the  language  of  her 
country"  enabled  him  to  hold  on. 

Once  he  ventured  to  speak  to  the  Chief  in  a  hope 
less  voice  of  the  evident  impossibility  of  ever  con 
verting  that  terrible  land  into  a  habitable  country, 
and  the  Seer,  strong  in  the  strength  of  his  dream, 
had  looked  at  him  from  the  still  depth  of  his  brown 
eyes  without  a  word — looked  until  the  younger  man 
had  turned  away,  his  cheeks  flushed  with  shame  and 
his  spirit  doing  homage  to  the  strength  of  the  master 
spirit  of  the  work.  And  the  eastern  engineer  remem 
bered  with  new  understanding  his  talks  with  Barbara 
Worth. 

When  they  pulled  the  dead  coyote  from  the  only 
water  hole  within  two  days'  travel  and  Holmes  nearly 
fainted  at  the  sickening  sight,  it  was  Texas  Joe  who 


141 


THE  WIKKTING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

saved  the  day  for  him  by  remarking,  with  an  air  of 
philosophical  musing,  after  a  deep  draught  of  the 
tepid,  tainted  water :  "Hit  ain't  so  bad  as  you  might 
think,  Mr.  Holmes,  onct  your  oilfactory  nerves  has 
become  somewhat  regulated  to  the  aroma  and  your 
palate  has  been  eddicated  to  the  point  of  appreciatin' 
the  deliciously  foreign  flavor.  In  the  judgment  of 
some  connysoors,  it  has  several  points  the  lead  of 
them  imported  fancy  drinks  you  get  in  Frisco." 

When  a  Mexican  died  horribly  from  the  bite  of  a 
rattlesnake,  and  Holmes  himself  was  barely  saved 
from  a  like  fate  by  the  prompt  action  and  ready 
knowledge  of  Abe  Lee,  it  was  the  slow  smile  of  the 
desert-bred  surveyor  that  stiffened  him  to  go  on. 

And  when  he  was  nearly  beaten  by  a  three  days' 
sand-storm  so  searching  that  even  the  flap-jacks  and 
bacon  gritted  in  his  teeth  and  his  blood-shot  eyes 
smarted  in  his  head  like  coals  of  fire  and  his  skin 
felt  as  though  it  had  been  sand-papered,  when  he 
would  have  sold  his  soul  for  a  bath  and  actually 
began  to  get  his  things  together  in  readiness  for  the 
next  wagon  out,  it  was  Pat,  who,  with  the  devilish 
ingenuity  of  an  Irish  imp,  mocked  and  jeered  at  him 
for  a  quitter,  "fit  to  act  only  as  lady's  maid  or  to 
serve  soft  dhrinks  in  a  corner  drug-sthore,"  until  his 
fainting  heart  took  fire  and,  cursing  his  tormentor 
with  all  the  oaths  he  could  muster,  he  offered  to  whip, 
single-handed,  the  whole  grinning  camp  and  stayed. 

Thus  he  was  advanced  to  the  second  degree,  when 
he  began  to  sense  the  spirit  of  the  untamed  land  and 
of  the  men  who  went  to  meet  it  with  sheer  joy  of 
the  conquest;  when  he  began  to  glory  in  the  very 

142 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

greatness  of  the  task;  and  the  long  dormant  spirit 
of  his  ancestors  stirred  within  him  as  he  caught 
glimpses  of  the  vision  that  inspired  the  Seer  or, 
perhaps  it  should  be  written,  the  vision  that  tempted 
his  employers,  James  Greenfield  and  his  fellow 
capitalists. 

He  was  still  far  from  ready  for  the  final  degree; 
but  even  that  might  come. 

Through  all  those  hard  days  Jefferson  Worth 
moved  with  the  same  careful,  precise,  certain  manner 
that  distinguished  him  in  his  work  at  home.  Even 
the  desert  sun  that  so  tanned,  blistered  and  blackened 
the  faces  of  his  companions  could  not  mark  the  gray 
pallor  of  that  mask-like  face.  No  disturbing  incident 
or  unforeseen  difficulty  could  wring  from  him  an 
exclamation  or  change  the  measured  tones  of  his 
colorless  voice.  He  seemed  to  accept  everything  as 
though  he  had  foreseen,  carefully  considered  and 
dismissed  it  from  his  mind  before  it  came  to  pass. 
Day  after  day  he  rode  in  every  direction  over  the 
land  within  easy  reach  of  the  many  camps ;  familiar 
izing  himself  with  every  detail  of  the  work,  observing 
soil,  studying  conditions,  poring  over  maps  and 
figures  with  the  Seer,  verifying  estimates,  listening 
to  and  taking  part  in  the  many  councils  of  the 
leaders.  But  not  once  did  anyone  catch  a  hint  of 
what  was  going  on  behind  those  expressionless  blue 
eyes  that  seemed  to  see  everything  without  effort  and 
to  be  incapable  of  expressing  the  emotions  of  the 
soul  within. 

To  the  men  he  was  the  visible  representative  of 
that  invisible  power  that  willed  their  going  forth. 

143 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

He  was  Capital — Money — Business  incarnate.  They 
set  him  apart  as  one  not  of  their  world.  In  his 
presence  laughter  was  hushed,  jests  were  unspoken. 
Silently  they  waited  for  him  to  speak  first.  When 
he  conversed  with  them  they  answered  thoughtfully 
in  subdued  tones,  seeming  to  feel  that  their  words 
were  received  by  one  who  placed  upon  them  un- 
clreamed-of  values.  Tilled  as  these  men  were  with 
the  enthusiasm  of  their  work,  they  were  never  uncon 
scious  of  the  knowledge  that  but  for  the  power  repre 
sented  by  Jefferson  Worth  their  work  would  be 
impossible. 

Small  wonder,  then,  that  there  was  consternation 
in  the  headquarters  camp  that  night  when  Pat 
appeared,  hat  in  hand,  before  the  company  of  leaders 
in  the  Seer's  office  tent.  "I  beg  yer  pardon,  Sorr." 

"What  is  it,  Pat?"  asked  the  Seer,  and  all  eyes 
were  turned  upon  the  burly  Irishman,  whose  face 
and  voice  as  well  as  his  presence  at  that  hour 
betrayed  some  unusual  incident.  "  'Tis  this,  Sorr. 
Has  anywan  seen  Mr.  Worth  this  avenin'  ?" 

Every  head  was  shaken  negatively. 

"Was  he  not  at  supper  wid  you  gintlemen  ?" 

"Why  no,  he  was  not,"  returned  the  Seer.  "But 
it  is  nothing  unusual  for  him  to  be  late.  Have  you 
asked  the  cook  ?" 

"We  have,  Sorr.  Ye  see,  whin  ut  come  time  to 
turn  in  an'  he  hadn't  shown  up  an'  Tex  seen  that 
his  horse  wasn't  wid  the  bunch,  we  got  a  bit  unaisy 
like.  We  axed  the  cook,  an'  we've  been  to  his  tent, 
an'  we've  axed  the  men." 


144 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"Perhaps  he  has  put  up  at  one  of  the  other  camps," 
suggested  a  surveyor. 

"  That's  not  like,  Sorr,  for  he  rode  northeast  this 
mornin'.  Me  an'  Tex  watched  him  go;  an'  there's 
divil  a  camp  in  that  direction  as  we  all  know." 

"He  surely  intended  to  return  here  or  he  would 
have  told  us,"  said  the  Seer.  "You  know  how  careful 
he  is.  What  do  you  think,  Abe  ?" 

Before  Abe  could  answer  a  Mexican  ran  up,  and 
Pat,  turning,  hauled  him  into  the  tent  by  the  neck. 
"Fwhat  the  hell  is  ut,  ye  greaser  ?" 

"Senor  Texas  send  me  quick,"  the  little  brown  man 
panted,  bowing  low  to  the  company,  sombrero  in 
hand.  "Senor  Worth's  horse,  he  just  come.  In  the 
saddle  is  no  one.  Senor  Worth  he  is  not  come.  I 
think  he  is  gone." 

Before  the  Mexican  finished  speaking  there  was  a 
rush  of  feet  and  he  was  alone.  With  a  ehrug  of  his 
shoulders  and  a  flash  of  his  white  teeth,  he  turned 
leisurely  to  follow,  saying  half  aloud:  "It  is  all  in 
La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios,  Senor  Worth.  Maybe 
so  you  come  back,  maybe  this  time  not."  He  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  into  the  black  vault  of  the 
night ;  then,  with  another  shrug,  retired  to  his  blanket 
to  sleep. 

Abe  Lee  was  first  to  reach  the  corral  where  Texas 
Joe,  by  the  light  of  a  lantern,  was  examining  Mr. 
Worth's  horse.  No  word  was  exchanged  between 
them  while  the  surveyor  in  turn  looked  carefully 
over  the  animal.  The  others,  coming  up,  stood  silent 
a  little  apart,  waiting  for  the  word  of  these  two. 


145 


THE  WIKNIJSTG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"What  do  you  make  of  it,  Abe?"  asked  the  Seer 
when  the  long  surveyor  turned  toward  him. 

Deliberately  rolling  a  cigarette,  Abe  answered 
from  a  cloud  of  smoke :  "He  is  left  afoot  too  far  out 
to  walk  in,  likely.  We'll  go  for  him  in  the  morning. " 

A  startled  exclamation  came  from  Willard  Holmes, 
but  no  one  heeded  as  the  surveyor  turned  to  Texaa 
Joe.  "How  do  you  figure  it,  Tex  ?" 

"The  same,"  came  the  laconic  answer.  "This  here 
cayuse  wasn't  broke  to  stand.  He  must  have  been 
tied  somewheres,  'cause  the  reins  are  busted."  He 
pointed  to  the  pieces  of  leather  hanging  from  the  bit, 
"The  canteen  is  gone.  Jefferson  Worth  is  too  old  a 
hand  on  the  desert  to  leave  it  on  the  horse.  He 
likely  tied  the  pony  to  a  bush  and  went  to  climb  a 
hill  or  something.  Mr.  Hawss  breaks  loose  and  pulls 
for  home.  It  happened  a  good  way  out,  'cause  the 
pony's  pretty  well  tired,  which  he  wouldn't  a-been, 
travelin'  light,  if  Mr.  Worth  hadn't  ridden  some 
distance  before  it  happened.  An'  if  he  was  nearer 
the  pony  would  have  been  in  earlier.  He'll  likely 
show  us  a  smoke  in  the  morning  and  even  if  he  don't 
it'll  be  easy  to  trail  him,  'cause  there  ain't  no  wind. 
Will  I  go,  sir  ?"  He  looked  at  the  Chief. 

"Yes ;  you  and  Abe,  don't  you  think  ?" 

Abe  assented  and  the  men  turned  toward  the  tents 
while  Texas  led  the  tired  horse  away. 

The  New  York  engineer  approached  the  Chief. 
"Do  I  understand,  sir,  that  you  propose  to  do  nothing 
until  morning?" 

The  Seer  faced  him.  "There  is  nothing  to  do,  Mr. 
Holmes,"  he  said  simply. 

146 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Willard  Holmes  was  amazed  at  the  man's  apparent 
unconcern.  "Nothing  to  do  ?"  he  exclaimed.  "Why 
don't  you  arouse  the  men  and  send  them  in  every 
direction  to  search  ?  Why  man,  don't  you  realize  the 
situation  ?  Mr.  Worth  may  be  hurt.  He  may  even 
be  dying  alone  out  there !  I  protest !  It's  monstrous ! 
It's  cowardly,  inhuman,  to  do  nothing!" 

The  company,  attracted  by  the  loud  words,  paused. 
Abe  Lee,  standing  beside  his  Chief,  rolled  another 
cigarette  while  the  engineer  was  speaking. 

The  Seer  answered  patiently:  "But  Mr.  Holmes, 
we  could  accomplish  nothing  by  such  a  search  as  you 
suggest.  The  territory  is  too  large  to  cover  with  a 
hundred  times  the  number  of  men  we  have  in  camp. 
At  daylight,  when  they  can  follow  his  trail,  Abe  and 
Tex  will  ride  to  him  as  fast  as  their  horses  can  go. 
Granting  that  the  worst  you  suggest  may  be  true,  our 
plan  is  the  only  sane  way." 

"But  I  protest,  sir.  You  should  make  the  attempt. 
I  will  not  submit  to  idly  doing  nothing  while  a  life 
is  in  danger — particularly  that  of  a  man  like  Mr. 
Worth.  I  shall  go  alone  if  no  one  will  help  me,  and" 
— he  straightened  himself  haughtily — "I  shall  report 
this  to  Mr.  Greenfield  and  the  men  interested  with 
him  in  this  work." 

At  the  last  words  one  of  those  rare  changes  swept 
over  the  big  engineer,  and  the  witnesses  saw  a  side 
of  the  Chief's  nature  that  was  seldom  revealed.  His 
eyes  flashed  and  his  face  hardened  as  he  burst  forth 
in  tones  that  startled  his  hearers:  "Report  me? 
You !  Report  and  be  damned,  sir.  I  was  old  at  this 
work  when  you  were  a  sucking  babe.  These  men 

147 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

were  learning  the  desert  when  you  were  attending  a 
fashionable  dancing  school.  Why,  you  damned  lily- 
fingered  tenderfoot,  you  couldn't  find  your  way  five 
hundred  yards  in  this  country  without  a  guide  or  a 
compass.  Now,  sir,  I'm  running  this  outfit  and  if 
you  have  any  protests  against  my  cowardly  inhu 
manity  I  advise  you  to  smother  them  in  your  manly 
breast,  or,  by  hell!  I'll  ship  you  out  on  the  first 
wagon  to-morrow  morning  and  let  you  report  to 
Greenfield  that  you  were  fired  because  you  didn't 
know  your  work  yourself  and  hadn't  intelligence 
enough  to  listen  to  those  who  did !" 

The  Chief  paused  for  breath,  and  Willard  Holmes, 
whose  experience  with  large  corporations  was  ex 
pected  to  make  him  peculiarly  valuable  to  the  capital 
ists  who  sent  him  out,  turned  away  with  what  dignity 
he  could  command. 

"Howly  Mither!"  came  a  hoarse  whisper  from 
Pat  to  Abe;  "I  made  sure  the  poor  bhoy  wud 
shrivel  up.  Sich  a  witherin',  blistherin'  tongue  lashin' 
wud  scorch  the  hide  av  the  owld  divil  himsilf."  He 
looked  admiringly  after  the  Seer.  "D'ye  think,  now, 
that  the  poor  lad  will  be  afther  tacklin'  the  job  alone, 
like  he  said  ?  Sure,  ut's  nerve  he  has  all  right  but  he 
lacks  judgment." 

"Yes,  he  has  the  nerve  all  right,"  returned  Abe 
slowly,  "and  we'd  better  keep  an  eye  on  him.  Tell 
Tex." 

Willard  Holmes  knew  that  he  owed  his  Chief  an 
apology  and  he  promised  himself  to  make  it  in  the 
morning.  But  neither  the  explanation  of  the  Seer 
nor  the  bitter  humiliation  that  he  had  brought  upon 

148 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

himself  could  turn  his  thoughts  from  Mr.  Worth 
alone  on  the  desert.  To  sleep  was  impossible.  The 

banker  might  be As  he  tossed  in  his  blankets 

the  engineer  pictured  to  himself  a  hundred  things 
that  might  have  happened  to  Barbara's  father. 

It  was  some  two  hours  later  when  Pat  touched 
Abe  Lee  on  the  shoulder. 

"All  right,  Pat,"  said  the  surveyor,  fully  awake 
and  in  possession  of  all  his  senses  in  an  instant. 

"There's  a  light  bobbin'  off  into  nowhere  an'  the 
lad's  blankets  are  impty." 

Fifteen  minutes  later  a  quiet  voice  within  three 
feet  of  Willard  Holmes  asked:  "Shall  I  go  with 
you,  sir?" 

The  eastern  man  jumped  like  a  nervous  woman. 
He  had  not  heard  the  approach  of  the  surveyor,  who 
walked  with  the  step  of  an  Indian.  "I  couldn't 
sleep,"  he  explained.  "I  thought  I  would  follow  the 
tracks  a  little  way  out  at  least.  He  may  not  be  so 
far  away  as  you  think." 

After  Abe  had  taken  time  to  make  his  cigarette 
he  spoke  meditatively.  "Mr.  Worth  rode  a  horse." 

"I  understand  that,"  returned  the  man  with  the 
lantern  tartly.  "I  saw  him  go  this  morning  and  I 
saw  the  horse  to-night.  This  is  the  track." 

From  another  cloud  of  smoke  came  the  quiet, 
respectful  answer:  "But  this  is  a  mule's  track,  Mr. 
Holmes.  It  is  Manuel  Ramirez's  mule.  See,  he  has 
a  broken  shoe  on  the  off  fore-foot.  I  noticed  it  yes 
terday  when  I  sent  Manuel  to  hunt  a  water  hole. 
Besides,  Mr  Worth  rode  northeast;  not  in  this 
direction." 

149 


CHAPTEK  IX. 
THE  MASTER  PASSION  -"  GOOD  BUSINESS." 

HEN"  Jefferson  Worth  left  headquarters  camp 
that  morning,  his  purpose  was  to  ride  over 
a  part  of  the  territory  lying  southeast  of  the 
old  San  Felipe  trail  between  the  sand  hills  and  the 
old  beach-line.  He  had  covered  practically  all  of  the 
land  on  the  western  side  of  the  ancient  sea-bed,  from 
the  delta  dam  at  the  southern  end  north  to  the  lowest 
point  in  the  Basin,  and  southward  again  on  the 
eastern  side  as  far  as  the  old  trail.  There  remained 
for  him  to  see  only  this  section  in  the  southeast. 

It  was  nearly  noon  when  the  banker,  from  a  slight 
elevation  that  afforded  him  a  view  of  the  surrounding 
country,  recognized  the  group  of  sand  hills  and,  by 
the  general  course  of  Dry  River,  distinguished  the 
spot  where  the  San  Felipe  trail  crosses  the  deep 
arroyo.  Occupied  with  his  thoughts,  he  had  ridden 
farther  from  camp  than  he  had  realized.  He  should 
turn  back.  But  the  distant  scene  of  the  desert  tragedy 
called  him.  He  became  possessed  of  a  desire  to  visit 
once  more  the  spot  that  was  so  closely  associated  with 
the  child,  who  had  so  strangely  come  into  his  life 
and  whom  he  loved  as  his  own  daughter. 

An  hour  later  he  dismounted  to  stand  beside  the 
water  hole  where,  with  his  companions,  he  had  found 
the  dead  woman  with  the  empty  canteen  by  her  side. 

150 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

The  incidents  of  that  hour  were  as  vivid  in  the 
banker's  memory  as  if  it  had  all  happened  only  the 
day  before.  He  remembered  how  Texas  Joe  had 
lifted  the  canteen  and,  inverting  it,  had  held  out  to 
them  his  finger  moistened  with  the  last  drop  of  water 
in  the  cloth-covered  vessel ;  and  how  he  and  his  com 
panions,  standing  by  the  dead  body  of  the  woman, 
had  turned  to  each  other  in  startled  awe  at  the 
coyotes'  ghostly  call  in  the  dusk.  He  heard  again 
with  thrilling  clearness  the  baby's  plaintive  voice: 
"Mamma,  mamma!  Barba  wants  drink.  Please 
bring  drink,  mamma.  Barba's  'fraid !" 

Going  a  short  way  up  the  wash,  he  stood  with 
uncovered  head  on  the  very  spot  where  he  had  knelt 
with  out-stretched  hands  before  the  big-eyed,  brown- 
haired  baby  girl,  who,  crouching  under  the  high 
bank,  shrank  back  from  him  in  fear.  He  saw  the 
frightened  look  in  her  eyes  and  heard  the  sweet  voice 
cry:  "Go  'way!  Go  'way!  Go  'way!"  Then  he 
saw  the  expression  on  the  little  face  change  as  Pat 
and  Tex  and  the  boy  tried  to  reassure  her;  saw  her 
hold  up  her  baby  hands  in  full  confidence  to  the  big 
engineer ;  and  felt  again  the  pain  and  humiliation  in 
his  heart. 

Why  had  the  baby  instinctively  feared  him  ?  Why 
had  she  turned  from  him  to  the  Seer  ?  Why,  he 
asked  himself  bitterly,  had  she  always  feared  him? 
Why  did  she  still  shrink  from  him?  For  Barbara 
did  shrink  from  him,  unconsciously — unintentionally 
— but,  to  Jefferson  Worth,  none  the  less  plainly  now 
than  when  he  knelt  before  her  that  night  in  the 
desert.  And  it  hurt  him  now  as  it  had  hurt  him 

151 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

then;  hurt  the  more,  perhaps,  because  Barbara  did 
not  know — because  her  attitude  was  instinctive. 

Still  living  over  again  the  incidents  and  emotions 
of  that  hour  in  the  desert  night,  he  walked  back  to 
the  crossing  and,  leading  his  horse,  climbed  the  little 
hill  out  of  the  wash  to  the  spot  where,  with  Texas 
and  Pat,  he  had  rendered  the  last  possible  service  to 
the  unknown  woman,  who  had  given  her  life  for  the 
life  of  the  child — the  child  that  was  his  but  not  his. 
Long  ago  he  had  marked  the  grave  with  a  simple 
headstone  bearing  the  only  name  possible — the  one 
word :  "Mother" — and  the  date  of  her  death. 

Then  mounting  again,  he  rode  swiftly  along  the 
old  trail  toward  the  sand  hills  in  the  near  distance. 
The  great  drifts,  in  the  years  that  had  passed,  had 
been  moved  on  by  the  wind  until  the  wagon  and  all 
that  remained  of  the  half-buried  outfit  were  now 
hidden  somewhere  deep  in  its  heart.  But  the  general 
form  of  the  sand  hill  was  still  the  same. 

Dismounting,  Mr.  Worth  tied  his  horse  to  a  scrag- 
gly,  half-buried  mesquite  and,  taking  his  canteen 
from  the  saddle,  climbed  laboriously  up  the  steep, 
sandy  slope.  He  would  look  over  the  country  from 
that  point  and  then  make  straight  for  camp,  for  it 
was  getting  well  on  in  the  afternoon.  From  the  top 
of  the  hill  he  could  see  the  wide  reaches  of  The 
King's  Basin  Desert  sweeping  away  on  every  side. 
At  his  feet  the  bare  sand  hills  themselves  lay  like 
huge,  rolling,  wind-piled  drifts  of  tawny  snow  glisten 
ing  in  the  sunlight  with  a  blinding  glare.  Beyond 
these  were  the  gray  and  green  of  salt-bush,  mesquite 
and  greasewood,  with  the  dun  earth  showing  here 

152 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

and  there  in  ragged  patches.  Still  farther  away  the 
detail  of  hill  and  hummock  and  bush  and  patch  was 
lost  in  the  immensity  of  the  scene,  while  the  dull 
tones  of  gray  and  green  and  brown  were  over-laid 
with  the  ever-changing  tints  of  the  distance,  until, 
to  the  eyes,  the  nearer  plain  became  an  island  sur 
rounded  on  every  side  by  a  mighty,  many-colored  sea 
that  broke  only  at  the  foot  of  the  purple  mountain 
wall. 

The  work  of  the  expedition  was  nearly  finished. 
The  banker  knew  now  from  the  results  of  the  survey 
and  from  his  own  careful  observations  and  estimates 
that  the  Seer's  dream  was  not  only  possible  from  an 
engineering  point  of  view,  but  from  the  careful 
capitalist's  standpoint,  would  justify  a  large  invest 
ment.  Lying  within  the  lines  of  the  ancient  beach 
and  thus  below  the  level  of  the  great  river,  were 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres  equal  in  richness  of 
the  soil  to  the  famous  delta  lands  of  the  Nile.  The 
bringing  of  the  water  from  the  river  and  its  distribu 
tion  through  a  system  of  canals  and  ditches,  while  a 
work  of  great  magnitude  requiring  the  expenditure 
of  large  sums  of  money,  was,  as  an  engineering  prob 
lem,  comparatively  simple. 

As  Jefferson  Worth  gazed  at  the  wonderful  scene, 
a  vision  of  the  changes  that  were  to  come  to  that  land 
passed  before  him.  He  saw  first,  following  the  nearly 
finished  work  of  the  engineers,  an  army  of  men 
beginning  at  the  river  and  pushing  out  into  the  desert 
with  their  canals,  bringing  with  them  the  life-giving 
water.  Soon,  with  the  coming  of  the  water,  would 
begin  the  coming  of  the  settlers.  Hummocks  would 

153 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

be  leveled,  washes  and  arroyos  filled,  ditches  would 
be  made  to  the  company  canals,  and  in  place  of  the 
thin  growth  of  gray-green  desert  vegetation  with  the 
ragged  patches  of  dun  earth  would  come  great  fields 
of  luxuriant  alfalfa,  billowing  acres  of  grain,  with 
miles  upon  miles  of  orchards,  vineyards  and  groves. 
The  fierce  desert  life  would  give  way  to  the  herds 
and  flocks  and  the  home  life  of  the  farmer.  The 
railroad  would  stretch  its  steel  strength  into  this  new 
world ;  towns  and  cities  would  come  to  be  where  now 
was  only  solitude  and  desolation;  and  out  from  this 
world-old  treasure  house  vast  wealth  would  pour  to 
enrich  the  peoples  of  the  earth.  The  wealth  of  an 
empire  lay  in  that  land  under  the  banker's  eye,  and 
Capital  held  the  key. 

But  while  the  work  of  the  engineers  was  simple, 
it  would  be  a  great  work ;  and  it  was  the  magnitude 
of  the  enterprise  and  the  consequent  requirement  of 
large  sums  of  money  that  gave  Capital  its  oppor 
tunity.  Without  water  the  desert  was  worthless. 
With  water  the  productive  possibilities  of  that  great 
territory  were  enormous.  Without  Capital  the  water 
could  not  be  had.  Therefore  Capital  was  master  of 
the  situation  and,  by  controlling  the  water,  could 
exact  royal  tribute  from  the  wealth  of  the  land. 

Knowing  James  Greenfield  and  his  business 
associates  as  he  knew  them,  familiar  with  their 
operations  as  he  was  and  knowing  that  they  repre 
sented  the  power  of  almost  unlimited  capital,  Jeffer 
son  Worth  realized  that  they  would  plan  to  share  in 
every  dollar  of  wealth  that  The  King's  Basin  lands 
could  be  made  to  produce.  Already  his  trained  mind 

154 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

saw  how  easily,  with  the  vast  power  in  their  hands, 
this  could  be  brought  about.  And  these  men,  recog 
nizing  his  peculiar  value  in  such  an  enterprise  as  this, 
wanted  him  to  join  them. 

It  was  a  triumphant  moment  in  the  life  and  busi 
ness  career  of  the  western  banker,  the  culmination 
of  long,  hard  years  of  unceasing  toil,  of  unfaltering 
devotion  to  business,  of  struggle  and  disappointments, 
of  small  victories  and  steady  advance  gained  at  the 
cost  of  sacrifice  and  hard  fighting.  This  proposed 
alliance  with  the  great  eastern  capitalists  opened  the 
door  and  invited  him  into  the  company  of  the  real 
leaders  of  the  financial  world.  As  one  of  the  power 
ful  corporation  that  would  literally  hold  the  life  of 
the  future  King's  Basin  in  its  hand,  the  multitudes 
of  toilers  who  would  come  to  reclaim  the  desert  would 
be  forced  to  toil  not  only  for  themselves  but  for  him. 
A  part  of  every  dollar  of  the  millions  that  would  be 
taken  from  that  treasury  by  the  labor  of  the  people 
would  go  to  enrich  him. 

The  financier's  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  a 
sound.  He  turned  to  see  his  horse  tugging  at  the 
bridle  reins,  snorting  in  fear.  The  man  started 
quickly  down  the  hill,  but  before  he  could  cover  half 
the  distance  that  separated  him  from  his  mount  the 
frightened  animal  broke  the  reins  and,  wheeling 
about,  disappeared  down  the  trail  on  a  wild  run.  At 
the  same  instant  a  coyote  trotted  leisurely  out  from 
under  the  lee  of  the  sand  drift  and,  with  a  side  glance 
over  his  shoulder  at  the  banker,  slipped  around  the 
point  of  the  next  low  ridge. 

The  man  knew  that  to  catch  his  horse  would  be 

155 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

impossible.  The  animal  would  not  stop  until  he 
reached  his  companions  at  the  feed-rack  in  camp. 
He  knew  also  that  to  attempt  to  find  his  way  to 
headquarters  such  a  distance  and  on  foot,  with  night 
so  near  at  hand,  would  be  worse  than  folly.  He 
would  only  exhaust  his  strength  and  make  it  harder 
for  his  friends  to  find  him  before  his  water,  which 
could  not  last  another  day,  should  give  out.  Some 
one,  he  knew,  would  take  his  trail  in  the  morning. 
The  only  thing  he  could  do  was  to  wait — to  wait 
alone  in  the  heart  of  this  silent,  age-old,  waiting 
land. 

Somewhere  in  those  forgotten  ages  that  went  into 
the  making  of  The  King's  Basin  Desert,  a  company 
of  free-born  citizens  of  the  land,  moved  by  that 
master  passion — Good  Business,  found  their  way  to 
the  banks  of  the  Colorado.  In  time  Good  Business 
led  them  to  build  their  pueblos  and  to  cultivate  their 
fields  by  irrigation  with  water  from  the  river  and 
erect  their  rude  altars  to  their  now  long-forgotten 
gods.  Driven  by  the  same  passion  that  drove  the 
Indians,  the  emigrant  wagons  moved  toward  the  new 
gold  country,  and  some  financial  genius  saw  Good 
Business  at  the  river-crossing  near  the  site  of  the 
ancient  city.  At  first  it  was  no  more  than  a  ferry, 
but  soon  others  with  eyes  for  profit  established  a 
trading  point  where  the  overland  voyagers  could 
replenish  their  stock  of  supplies,  sure  to  be  low  after 
the  hundreds  of  miles  across  the  wide  plains.  Then 
also,  in  obedience  to  Good  Business,  pleasures  heard 
the  call,  saloons,  gambling  houses  and  dance  halls 
appeared,  and  for  profit  the  joys  of  civilization 

156 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

arrived  in  the  savage  land.  Good  Business  sent  the 
prospectors  who  found  the  mines,  the  capital  that 
developed  them  and  the  laborers  who  dug  the  ore. 
Good  Business  sent  the  cattle  barons  and  their  cow 
boys,  sent  the  speculators  and  the  pioneer  merchants. 
Good  Business  sent  also,  in  the  fulness  of  time, 
Jefferson  AVorth. 

Of  old  New  England  Puritan  stock,  Worth  had 
come  through  the  hard  life  of  a  poor  farm  boy  with 
two  dominant  elements  in  his  character:  an  almost 
super-human  instinct  for  Good  Business,  inherited 
no  doubt,  and  an  instinct,  also  inherited,  for  religion. 
The  instinct  for  trade,  from  much  cultivation,  had 
waxed  strong  and  stronger  with  the  years.  The 
religion  that  he  had  from  his  forefathers  was  become 
little  more  than  a  superstition.  It  was  his  genius 
for  business  that  led  him,  in  his  young  manhood,  to 
leave  the  farm,  and  it  was  inevitable  that  from 
making  money  he  should  come  to  making  money 
make  more  money.  It  was  the  other  dominant  ele 
ment  in  his  character  that  kept  him  scrupulously 
honest,  scrupulously  moral.  Besides  this,  honesty 
and  morality  were  also  "good  business." 

Seeking  always  larger  opportunities  for  the  em 
ployment  of  his  small,  steadily-increasing  financial 
strength,  Mr.  Worth  established  the  Pioneer  Bank. 
Later,  as  he  had  foreseen,  the  same  master  passion 
brought  the  great  railroad  with  still  larger  oppor 
tunities  for  his  money  to  make  more  money.  And 
now  the  same  master  passion  that  had  driven  the 
Indian,  the  emigrant,  the  miner,  the  cowman,  the 
banker  and  the  railroad  was  driving  the  eastern 

157 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

capitalists  to  spend  their  moneyed  strength  in  the 
reclamation  of  The  King's  Basin  Desert.  It  was 
Good  Business  that  led  Greenfield  and  his  friends 
to  seek  the  co-operation  of  the  western  financier.  It 
was  Good  Business  that  called  to  Jefferson  Worth 
now  as  he  saw  the  immense  possibilities  of  the  land. 

As  truly  as  the  ages  had  made  the  barren  desert 
with  its  hard,  thirsty  life,  the  ages  had  produced 
Jefferson  Worth,  a  carefully  perfected,  money  mak 
ing  machine,  as  silent,  hard  and  lonely  as  the  desert 
itself.  With  apparently  no  vices,  no  passions,  no 
mistakes,  no  failures,  his  only  relation  to  his  fellow- 
men  was  a  business  relation.  With  his  almost 
supernatural  ability  to  foresee,  to  measure,  to  weigh 
and  judge,  with  his  cold,  mask-like  face  and  his 
manner  of  considering  carefully  every  word  and  of 
placing  a  value  upon  every  trivial  incident,  he  was 
respected,  feared,  trusted,  even  admired — and  that 
was  all.  ISTo;  not  all.  By  those  who  were  forced, 
through  circumstances — business  circumstances — to 
contribute  to  his  prosperity  and  financial  success,  he 
was  hated.  Such  is  the  unreasonableness  of  human 
kind. 

Business,  to  this  man  as  to  many  of  his  kind,  was 
not  the  mean,  sordid  grasping  and  hoarding  of 
money.  It  was  his  profession,  but  it  was  even  more 
than  a  profession ;  it  was  the  expression  of  his  genius. 
Still  more  it  was,  through  him,  the  expression  of  the 
age  in  which  he  lived,  the  expression  of  the  master 
passion  that  in  all  ages  had  wrought  in  the  making 
of  the  race.  He  looked  upon  a  successful  deal  as  a 
good  surgeon  looks  upon  a  successful  operation,  as 

158 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

an  architect  upon  the  completion  of  a  building  or  an 
artist  upon  his  finished  picture.  But  to  a  greater 
degree  than  to  artist  or  surgeon,  the  success  of  his 
work  was  measured  by  the  accumulation  of  dollars. 
Apart  from  his  work  he  valued  the  money  received 
from  his  operations  no  more  than  the  surgeon  his 
fee,  the  artist  his  price.  The  work  itself  was  his 
passion.  Because  dollars  were  the  tools  of  his  craft 
he  was  careful  of  them.  The  more  he  succeeded,  the 
more  power  he  gained  for  greater  success. 

But  extremely  simple  in  his  tastes,  lacking,  with 
his  lack  of  education,  knowledge  of  the  more  costly 
luxuries  of  life,  with  the  habits  of  an  ascetic,  Jeffer 
son  Worth  could  not  evidence  his  success;  and  suc 
cess  hidden  and  unknown  loses  its  power  to  reward. 
It  is  not  enough  for  the  engineer  to  run  his  locomo 
tive;  he  must  have  train  loads  of  goods  and  passen 
gers  to  carry  to  some  objective  point.  It  is  not 
enough  for  the  captain  to  have  command  of  his  ship ; 
he  must  have  a  port  Self  to  Jefferson  Worth  meant 
little;  his  nature  demanded  so  little.  Nor  could 
Mrs.  Worth  in  this  fill  the  need  in  her  husband's 
life,  for  her  nature  was  as  simple  as  his  own.  But  a 
child,  whose  life  could  be  part  of  his  life,  filling  out, 
supplementing  and  complementing  his  own  nature; 
a  child  who,  dependent  upon  him,  should  have  all  the 
training  that  he  lacked,  who  should  share  his  success 
arid  for  whom  he  could  plan  to  succeed — a  child,  an 
heir,  would  fill  the  blank  in  his  empty  career.  For  a 
brief  time  he  had  looked  forward  to  a  child  of  his 
own  blood.  Then  the  death  of  the  baby  and  the  ill 
health  of  his  wife  had  left  him  hopeless.  He  con- 

159 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

tinned  his  work  because  lie  knew  no  life  apart  from 
his  work. 

Then  came  the  little  girl  so  strangely  the  gift  of 
the  desert.  The  banker's  mind,  trained  to  act  quickly, 
had  grasped  the  possibilities  of  the  situation  in 
stantly  as  he  ran  with  his  companions  to  answer  the 
call  of  that  childish  voice.  From  the  moment  when 
he  knelt  with  outstretched  hands  and  pleading  words 
before  little  Barbara,  he  had  never  ceased  trying  to 
win  her.  Mrs.  Worth,  knowing  that  she  could  not 
be  with  him  many  years,  had  said :  "You  need  her, 
Jeff/'  and  he  did  need  her. 

But  Jefferson  Worth  knew  that  Barbara  was  not 
his.  She  shrank  from  him  as  instinctively  and 
unconsciously  as  she  had  drawn  back  that  night  of 
her  mother's  death  when  he  knelt  before  her  in  the 
desert.  As  she  had  turned  to  the  Seer  then,  she 
turned  from  the  banker  now.  And  now,  far  more 
than  then,  his  lonely  heart  hungered  for  her;  for 
with  the  years  his  need  of  her  had  grown.  Envied 
of  foolish  men  as  men  so  foolishly  envy  his  class,  the 
banker  knew  himself  to  be  destitute,  an  object  of 
their  pity.  The  poorest  Mexican  in  his  adobe  hut, 
with  his  half-naked,  laughing  children,  was  more 
wealthy  than  he. 

Jefferson  Worth,  that  afternoon  on  the  very  scene 
of  the  tragedy  that  had  given  Barbara  to  him, 
realized  that  in  the  land  before  him  he  faced  the 
greatest  opportunity  of  his  business  career.  He 
realized  also  that  he  was  as  much  alone  in  his  life 
as  he  was  alone  in  the  silent,  barren  waste  that  sur 
rounded  him.  Would  La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios, 

160 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

which  had  given  him  the  child  that  was  not  his  child, 
give  him  wealth  that  still  never  could  be  his  ? 

At  last,  from  his  place  on  the  sand  drift  that  held 
the  secret  of  Barbara's  life,  he  saw  the  sun  as  it 
appeared  to  rest  for  a  moment  on  the  western  wall 
before  plunging  down  into  the  world  on  the  other 
side.  Watching,  he  saw  the  purple  of  the  hills 
deepen  and  deepen  and  the  wondrous  light  on  the 
wide  sea  of  colors  fade  slowly  out  as  the  colors  them 
selves  paled  and  grew  dim  in  the  misty  dusk  of  the 
coming  night.  Slowly  the  twilight  sky  grew  dark, 
and  into  the  velvet  plain  above  came  the  heavenly 
flocks  until  their  number  was  past  counting  save  by 
Him  who  leadeth  them  in  their  fields.  Against  the 
last  lingering  light  in  the  west  that  marked  where 
the  day  had  gone,  the  mountains  lifted  their  vast 
bulk  in  solemn  grandeur  as  if  to  bar  forever  the 
coming  of  another  day.  Closing  about  him  on  every 
hand,  coming  dreadfully  nearer  and  nearer,  the  black 
walls  of  darkness  shut  him  in.  In  the  cool,  mysterious 
breath  of  the  desert,  in  the  grotesque,  fantastic, 
nearby  shapes  and  monstrous  forms  of  the  sand 
dunes,  in  the  mysterious  phantom  voices  that  whis 
pered  in  the  dark,  Jefferson  Worth  felt  the  close 
approach  of  the  spirit  of  the  land ;  the  calling  of  the 
age-old,  waiting  land — the  silent  menace,  the  voice 
less  threat,  the  whispered  promise. 

And  there,  alone — held  close  in  The  Hollow  of 
God's  Hand  as  the  long  hours  of  the  night  passed — 
the  spirit  of  the  man's  Puritan  fathers  stirred  within 
him.  In  the  silent,  naked  heart  of  the  Desert  that, 
knowing  no  hand  but  the  hand  of  its  Creator,  seemed 

161 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

to  hold  in  its  hushed  mysteriousness  the  ages  of  a 
past  eternity,  he  felt  his  life  to  be  but  a  little  thing. 
Beside  the  awful  forces  that  made  themselves  felt 
in  the  spirit  of  Barbara's  Desert,  the  might  of 
Capital  became  small  and  trivial.  Sensing  the  dread 
ful  power  that  had  wrought  to  make  that  land,  he 
shrank  within  himself — he  was  afraid.  He  marveled 
that  he  had  dared  dream  of  forcing  La  Palma  de  la 
Mano  de  Dios  to  contribute  to  his  gains.  And  so  at 
last  it  was  given  him  to  know  why  Barbara  instinct 
ively  shrank  from  him  in  fear. 

With  the  coming  of  the  day  the  banker  went  a 
little  way  back  on  the  trail  where  the  vegetation  was 
not  entirely  covered  by  the  drifting  sand,  and  there 
gathered  materials  for  a  fire.  Later,  when  he  judged 
his  friends  would  be  in  sight,  he  fired  the  pile  and, 
watching  the  tall,  thick  column  of  smoke  ascend, 
awaited  the  answer.  In  a  little  while  it  came,  faint 
and  far  away,  the  report  of  Texas  Joe's  forty-five. 
Soon  he  heard  the  sound  of  voices  calling  loudly  and, 
following  his  answer,  the  swift  hoof-beats  of  gallop 
ing  horses ;  and  Tex  and  Abe,  leading  another  hors^ 
appeared. 

But  the  Jefferson  Worth  who  rode  back  to  camp 
with  his  friends,  there  to  be  greeted  and  congratu 
lated  by  the  party,  was  not  the  same  Jefferson  Worth 
who  had  left  camp  the  morning  before,  though  no 
one  congratulated  him  because  of  that. 

It  was  three  weeks  later  when  a  portly,  well-fed 
gentleman  entered  the  Pioneer  Bank  in  Rubio  City 
and  asked  of  the  teller:  als  Mr.  Worth  in ?" 


162 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  man  on  the  other  side  of  the  counter  looked 
through  his  grated  window  at  the  speaker  with 
unusual  interest.  And  in  the  teller's  voice  there  was 
a  shade  of  unusual  deference  as  he  replied,  "Yes, 
sir." 

"Tell  him  that  Mr.  Greenfield  is  here." 

At  the  magic  of  that  name  every  man  in  the  bank 
within  sound  of  the  speaker's  voice  lifted  his  head 
and  turned  toward  the  face  at  the  window. 

"Yes,  sir.     Come  this  way,  sir." 

A  door  in  the  partition  opened  and  the  visitor  was 
admitted  to  the  sacred  precincts  behind  the  gratings, 
the  bars  and  the  plate  glass.  As  he  moved  down  the 
room  past  counters  and  desks,  every  eye  followed 
him  and  there  was  an  electrical  hush  in  the  atmos 
phere  like  the  hush  that  marks  the  massing  of  the 
forces  in  Nature  before  a  conflict  of  the  elements. 

Jefferson  Worth  looked  up  as  the  imposing  figure 
of  the  great  financier  appeared  on  the  threshold  of 
his  room,  and  at  the  name  of  James  Greenfield  care 
fully  pushed  back  the  papers  he  had  been  considering 
and  rose.  The  movement,  slight  as  it  was,  was  as 
though  he  cleared  his  decks  for  action.  The  clerk, 
withdrawing,  carefully,  closed  the  door. 

The  two  men  shook  hands  with  much  the  air  of 
two  wrestlers  meeting  for  a  bout.  For  a  moment 
neither  spoke.  Each  knew  that  in  the  silence  he  was 
being  measured,  estimated,  searched  for  his  weakness 
and  his  strength,  and  each  gave  to  the  other  this 
opportunity  as  his  right.  No  time  was  wasted  in 
idle  preliminaries.  These  men  knew  the  value  of 


163 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

time.  No  formal  words  expressing  pleasure  at  the 
meeting  were  spoken.  They  tacitly  accepted  the  fact 
that  pleasure  had  not  called  them  together. 

James  Greenfield  was  a  fair  representative  of  his 
class.  His  full,  well-colored  face  with  carefully 
clipped  gray  mustache,  bright  hlue  eyes  and  gray 
hair,  was  the  calmly  alert,  well-controlled,  thoughtful 
face  of  power:  not  the  face  of  one  who  does  things, 
but  of  one  who  causes  things  to  be  done ;  not  the  face 
of  one  who  is  himself  powerful,  but  of  one  who  con 
trols  and  directs  power;  such  a  face  as  you  may  see 
leaning  from  the  cab  of  a  great  locomotive  that  pulls 
the  overland  limited,  or  looking  down  at  you  from 
the  bridge  of  the  ocean  liner.  It  was  courageous, 
but  with  a  courage  not  personal — a  courage  born 
rather  of  an  exact  knowledge  of  the  strength  and 
duty  of  every  bolt,  rivet  and  lever  of  the  machine 
under  his  hand.  It  was  confident,  not  in  its  own 
strength,  but  in  the  strength  that  it  ruled  and 
directed. 

Jefferson  Worth  motioned  toward  a  chair  at  the 
end  of  his  desk  and  seated  himself.  The  man  from 
the  East  found  himself  forced  to  make  the  opening. 

"Mr.  Worth,"  he  said,  "we  find  it  very  difficult 
to  understand  your  attitude  toward  our  company, 
We  do  not  see  why  you  decline  our  proposition.  Your 
own  report  gives  every  reason  in  the  world  why  you 
should  accept  and  you  suggest  no  reason  at  all  for 
declining.  Frankly,  it  looks  strange  to  us  and  I  have 
come  out  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you  over  the 
matter  and  to  see  if  we  could  not  persuade  you  to 
reconsider  your  decision,  or  at  least  to  learn  your 

164 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

reasons  for  refusing  to  go  in  with  us.  Your  report 
and  your  answer  to  our  proposition  are  so  conflicting 
that  we  feel  we  have  a  right  to  some  definite  reason 
for  your  unexpected  decision." 

As  he  spoke,  the  president  of  The  King's  Basin 
Land  and  Irrigation  Company  tried  in  vain  to  see 
behind  the  mask-like  face  of  the  man  in  the  revolving- 
chair.  His  failure  only  excited  his  admiration  and 
respect.  Instinctively  he  recognized  the  genius  before 
him,  and  his  desire  to  add  this  strength  to  his  forces 
increased. 

"My  report  was  satisfactory?"  The  words  were 
absolutely  colorless. 

"Very.  It  was  exactly  what  we  wanted.  With 
your  opinion,  confirming  our  engineer's  statements, 
we  felt  safe  to  go  ahead  with  the  organization  of  the 
Company  and  have  already  set  the  wheels  moving 
toward  actual  work.  It  is  because  you  so  unhesitat 
ingly  and  so  strongly  commend  the  project  as  war 
ranting  our  investment  that  we  cannot  understand 
your  refusal  to  share  the  profits  of  our  enterprise." 

He  paused  for  an  answer,  but  was  forced  to  con 
tinue.  "Let  me  explain  more  fully  than  I  coulcl 
outline  in  my  letter  just  what  we  propose  doing. 
The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company, 
Mr.  Worth,  will  not  confine  its  operations  simply  to 
furnishing  water  for  the  reclamation  and  develop 
ment  of  these  lands.  That  is  no  more  than  the  begin 
ning — the  basis  of  our  operations.  With  the  settle 
ment  and  improvement  of  the  country  will  come 
many  other  openings  for  profitable  investments — 
townsites,  transportation  lines,  telephones,  electric 

165 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAEA  WORTH 

power,  banking  and  all  that,  you  understand.  Our 
connections  and  resources  make  it  possible  for  us  to 
finance  any  industry  or  operation  that  promises 
attractive  returns,  while  our  position  as  the  orig 
inators  of  the  whole  King's  Basin  movement  and  the 
owners  of  the  irrigation  system  will  give  us  tremen 
dous  advantage  over  any  outside  capital  that  may 
attempt  to  come  in  later,  and  will  make  competition 
practically  impossible." 

"I  figured  that  was  the  way  you  would  do  it,"  was 
the  unemotional  reply. 

More  than  ever  James  Greenfield  wanted  this  man. 
He  considered  carefully  a  few  minutes,  with  no  help 
from  Jefferson  Worth,  then  tried  again.  "If  you 
feel  that  our  proposition  to  you  is  not  liberal  enough, 
Mr.  Worth,  I  am  prepared  to  double  our  offer." 

If  the  financier  from  New  York  thought  to  startle 
this  little  western  banker  with  a  proposal  that  was 
more  than  princely  he  failed.  His  words  seemed  to 
have  no  effect.  It  was  as  though  he  talked  to  a 
marble  figure  of  a  man. 

"I  appreciate  your  proposition,  but  must  decline 
it." 

"May  I  ask  your  reason,  sir  ?" 

"I  must  decline  to  give  any." 

The  other  arose,  the  light  of  battle  in  his  eyes,  for 
to  James  Greenfield's  mind  there  could  be  only  one 
possible  meaning  in  the  answer.  "That  is,  of  course, 
your  privilege,  Mr.  Worth,"  he  said  coldly.  And 
then  with  the  weight  of  conscious  power  he  added: 
"But  I'll  tell  you  this,  sir:  if  you  think  you  can 
enter  The  King's  Basin  in  opposition  to  our  Com- 

166 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

pany  you're  making  the  mistake  of  your  life.  We'll 
smash  you,  with  your  limited  resources,  so  flat  that 
you'll  be  glad  for  a  chance  to  make  the  price  of  a 
meal.  Good  day,  sir!" 

"Good  day." 

Before  the  great  capitalist  was  out  of  the  building, 
Jefferson  Worth  was  bending  over  the  papers  on  his 
desk  again  as  though  declining  to  accept  flattering 
offers  from  gigantic  corporations  was  an  hourly 
occurrence. 


167 


CHAPTEE  X. 
BARBARA'S  LOVE  FOR  THE  SEER. 


had  not  proceeded  far 

with  the  work  before  him  after  James  Green 
field  left  when  he  was  again  interrupted. 
This  time  it  was  the  voice  of  Barbara  in  the  other 
room. 

The  banker  lifted  his  head  quickly.  Again  he 
pushed  his  papers  from  him,  but  now  the  movement 
seemed  to  indicate  weariness  and  uncertainty  rather 
than  readiness  for  action.  His  head  dropped  for 
ward,  his  thin  fingers  nervously  tapped  the  arms  of 
his  chair.  When  the  girl's  step  sounded  at  the  door 
he  looked  up  the  fraction  of  a  second  before  she 
appeared. 

"I  don't  want  to  disturb  you,  father,  but  they  told 
me  that  that  big,  fine-looking  man  just  going  out 
was  Mr.  Greenfield.  Is  he  —  did  he  come  all  the  way 
from  New  York  to  see  you  ?" 

"He  came  in  here  to  see  me/'  said  Jefferson  Worth 
exactly. 

"And  the  work?" 

"He  says  they  have  already  started  the  wheels  to 
moving." 

"And  you,  daddy  ;  you  ?" 

Jefferson  Worth  arose  and  carefully  closed  the 
door.  Then  silently  indicating  the  chair  at  the  end 
of  his  desk  he  resumed  his  seat. 

168 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

As  Barbara  looked  into  that  mask-like  face,  the 
eager  expectant  light  in  her  brown  eyes  died  out  and 
a  look  of  questioning  doubt  came.  She  seemed  to 
shrink  back  from  him  almost  as  she  had  turned  away 
that  first  time  in  the  desert. 

If  Jefferson  Worth  felt  that  look  his  face  gave  no 
sign;  only  those  thin,  nervous  fingers  were  lifted  to 
caress  his  chin. 

"Are  you — are  you  going  to  help,  daddy?  Will 
you  join  Mr.  Greenfield's  company  ?" 

Still  the  man  was  silent,  and  the  girl,  watching, 
wondered  what  was  going  on  behind  that  gray  mask, 
what  questions  were  being  weighed  and  considered.. 

At  last  he  spoke  one  cold  word :    "Why  ?" 

Barbara  flushed.  "Because,"  she  answered,  care 
fully,  "because  it  is  such  a  great  work.  You  could 
do  so  much  more  than  simply  make  money." 

"That  is  as  you  and  the  Seer  see  it." 

uBut,  father ;  it  is  a  great  work,  isn't  it,  to  change 
the  desert  into  a  land  of  farms  and  homes  for  thou 
sands  and  thousands  of  people  ?" 

"Do  you  think  that  Greenfield  and  his  crowd  are 
going  into  this  scheme  because  it  is  a  great  thing  for 
the  people  ?" 

"But  don't  even  capitalists  sometimes  undertake  a 
great  work  just  because  it  is  great  and  because 
thousands  upon  thousands  of  people,  through  years 
and  years  to  come,  will  be  benefited  even  though  the 
men  themselves  do  not  make  so  awfully  much 
money  ?" 

If  Jefferson  Worth  felt  her  unconscious  insinuation 
his  face  gave  no  sign.  Carefully  he  listened  with 

169 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

his  manner  of  considering  and  weighing  every  word, 
while  to  Barbara  his  mind  seemed  to  be  reaching 
out  on  every  side  or  running  far  into  the  future. 
When  he  answered  his  words  were  carefully  exact 
"Capitalists,  as  individuals  might  and  do,  spend 
millions  in  projects  from  which  they,  personally, 
expect  no  returns.  But  Capital  doesn't  do  such 
things.  Anything  that  Capital,  as  Capital,  goes  into 
must  be  purely  a  business  proposition.  If  anything 
like  sentiment  entered  into  it  that  would  be  the  end 
of  the  whole  matter." 

Barbara  moved  uneasily.  "I  don't  think  I  quite 
understand  why,"  she  said. 

There  was  a  shade  of  color  now  in  the  banker's 
voice  as  he  explained  by  asking :  "How  long  do  you 
think  this  bank  could  exist  if  we  made  loans  to  Tom, 
Dick  and  Harry  because  they  needed  help,  or  put 
money  into  this  and  that  scheme  simply  because  it 
was  a  beneficial  thing  ?  How  long  would  it  be  before 
we  went  to  smash?" 

"But  don't  business  men  ever  do  anything  except 
to  make  money?  Doesn't  Capital,  as  you  say,  ever 
consider  the  people  ?" 

"This  bank  is  a  very  substantial  benefit  to  the 
people.  But  it  can  only  benefit  them  by  doing  busi 
ness  on  strictly  business  principles.  As  an  individual 
any  officer  or  stock  holder  can  do  what  he  pleases  for 
whatever  reason  moves  him.  He  can  burn  his  money 
if  he  wants  to.  But  as  officers  and  directors  of  this 
corporation  we  can't  burn  the  capital  of  the  institu 
tion." 

"But  Mr.  Greenfield  and  these  New  York  men, 

170 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

who  have  organized  the  company — are  they  not  care 
ful  financiers?" 

"Very." 

"It  seems  to  me  that  they  must  believe  in  the  Seer 
and  his  work  or  they  wouldn't  furnish  him  the 
money,  would  they?" 

"They  believe  in  the  Seer  and  his  work  from  their 
standpoint.  Their  capital  is  invested  for  just  one 
purpose — dividends." 

Barbara  sighed  and  moved  impatiently.  "You 
always  make  it  so  hard  to  believe  in  men,  father.  I 
can't  think  that  all  business  men — all  financiers,  I 
mean, — are  so  cold  and  heartless." 

Again  if  Jefferson  Worth  felt  the  unconscious  im 
plication  in  her  words  he  gave  no  sign.  The  banker 
was  not  ignorant  of  the  public  sentiment  toward  him 
self  and  the  men  of  his  class  in  his  profession.  He 
had  come  to  accept  it  with  the  indifference  of  his 
exact,  machine-like  habit. 

Barbara  continued:  "I  feel  sure  that  Mr.  Green 
field  and  the  men  with  him  are  going  to  furnish  the 
money  for  the  Seer  to  do  this  work  for  niore  than 
just  what  they  will  make  out  of  it.  I  know  that 
Mr.  Holmes  does,  and  I  had  hoped  that  you" — her 
voice  broke — "that  you  would " 

If  only  Jefferson  Worth  could  have  broken  the 
habit  of  a  lifetime.  If  he  could  have  laid  aside  that 
gray  mask  and  permitted  the  girl  to  look  into  his 
hidden  life,  perhaps • 

His  colorless  voice  broke  the  silence,  coldly  exact : 
"What  do  you  figure  Willard  Holmes  is  in  this 
thing  for  ?" 

171 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

Barbara's  face  lighted  up  proudly.  "He  is  in  the 
work  for  the  same  reason  that  the  Seer  and  Abe  are 
— because  it  is  such  a  great  work  and  means  so  much 
to  the  world.  I  know,  because  since  he  returned  he 
has  talked  to  me  so  much  about  it.  When  he  first 
came  out — just  at  first — he  didn't  understand  what 
the  work  really  was.  But  now  he  understands  it  as 
the  Seer  sees  it." 

"Did  the  Seer  send  him  out  here  ?" 

"No,  I  believe  Mr.  Greenfield  sent  him." 

"Why?" 

"I  suppose  they  wanted  an  eastern  man,  whom 
they  knew  better  than  they  knew  the  Seer,  to  repre 
sent  them  ?  It  would  be  very  natural,  wouldn't  it  ?" 

"Very  natural,"  agreed  Jefferson  Worth. 

"Have  you  given  the  Company  your  final  answer, 
father  ?" 

"Yes." 

"And  you — you  won't  have  anything  to  do  with 
the  reclamation  of  my  Desert  ?" 

"I  declined  to  join  the  Company." 

Blindly  Barbara  made  her  way  out  of  the  building. 
The  place,  with  its  air  of  business  and  suggestions 
of  wealth,  was  unbearably  hateful  to  her.  At  home 
she  ordered  her  horse  and  started  for  the  open 
country.  But  she  did  not  ride  toward  the  Desert. 
She  felt  that  she  could  not  bear  the  sight  of  The 
King's  Basin  that  day. 

In  her  father's  attitude  toward  the  Company  Bar 
bara  saw  only  his  seeming  desire  for  selfish  gain.  He 
had  told  her  so  often  that  only  one  thing  could  justify 
an  investment  of  capital.  Evidently  he  did  not  think 

172 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  King's  Basin  project  would  pay.  She  felt 
ashamed  for  him ;  he  seemed  so  incapable  of  consid 
ering  anything  but  profit.  Nothing  but  profit,  the 
sure  promise  of  gain,  could  move  him.  He  believed 
in  the  work;  he  had  reported  in  favor  of  it  to  the 
Company.  He  knew  that  the  Company  was  going 
ahead.  He  was  willing  enough  that  others  should  do 
the  work,  she  thought  bitterly.  They  might  take  the 
risk.  It  was  even  likely  that  he  had  some  way 
planned  by  which,  without  risking  anything  himself, 
he  would  reap  large  returns  through  their  efforts. 
She  thought  proudly  of  the  Seer,  who  had  given  so 
many  unpaid  years  to  the  Reclamation  work ;  of  Abe 
and  his  loyalty  to  the  Seer ;  and  of  Willard  Holmes, 
who  was  going  to  give  himself  to  the  work. 

Utterly  sick  at  heart  the  girl  did  not  meet  her 
father  at  their  evening  meal.  She  could  not.  Jeffer 
son  Worth  ate  alone  and  alone  spent  the  evening  on 
the  porch.  On  the  way  to  his  room  he  paused  a 
moment  at  her  door.  He  knocked  softly  so  as  not 
to  waken  her  if  she  was  asleep.  When  there  was  no 
answer  he  stole  quietly  away.  But  Barbara  was  not 
asleep. 

For  three  days  Mr.  Greenfield  remained  in  Rubio 
City,  "on  the  business  of  The  King's  Basin  Land 
and  Irrigation  Company,"  the  papers  said  in  a  long 
article  setting  forth  the  greatness  of  the  work  that 
was  to  be  undertaken  in  the  desert  through  the  mag 
nificent  enterprise  of  these  mighty  eastern  capitalists. 

During  that  time  Barbara  had  not  seen  either  the 
Seer,  Holmes  or  Abe  Lee.  She  understood  that  they 
were  engaged  with  Mr.  Greenfield.  She  read  the 

173 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

glowing  articles  in  the  paper,  the  afternoon  of  Mr. 
Greenfield's  departure,  with  a  thrill  of  pride.  At 
last  it  had  come — the  day  for  which  the  Seer  had 
hoped  all  these  years.  The  dear  old  Seer !  She  was 
a  little  disappointed  that  the  papers  did  not  give  his 
name  more  prominence.  It  seemed  to  be  all  Green 
field  and  the  Company.  But  after  all  that  did  not 
matter.  It  was  the  Seer's  work;  the  Seer  had 
brought  it  about. 

The  front  gate  clicked  and  Barbara  looked  up 
from  her  paper  to  see  her  old  friend  coming  up  the 
walk.  She  saw  at  a  glance  that  something  was  wrong. 
She  thought  he  was  ill.  The  big  form  of  the  engineer 
drooped  with  weakness,  his  head  dropped  forward, 
his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  ground  and  he  walked 
slowly,  dragging  his  feet  as  with  great  weariness. 
With  a  startled  cry  she  ran  to  meet  him,  and  as  he 
caught  her  hands  in  both  his  own  she  saw  his  face 
drawn  and  haggard  and  his  brown  eyes  filled  with 
hopeless  pain.  He  did  not  speak. 

Leading  him  to  the  shade  of  the  porch  she  brought 
forward  his  favorite  chair.  He  sank  into  it  as  if 
overcome  with  exhaustion,  but  attempted  to  smile  his 
thanks. 

"What  is  it  ?    Are  you  ill  ?    Let  me  call  a  doctor  ?" 

"No,  no,  dear,  I'm  not  sick.  It's  not  that.  I'm — 
I'm  upset  a  bit,  that's  all.  I'll  be  all  right  in  a  little 
while.  Only  it  was  rather  unexpected."  He  turned 
his  face  away  as  though  to  hide  something  from  her. 

"What  is  it?  Can't  you  tell  me?  What  is  the 
matter  ?"  Barbara  had  never  seen  the  Seer  so  hope 
less. 

174 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"They  have  let  me  out." 

She  did  not  understand.     "Let  you  out  ?" 

He  bowed  his  head  slowly.  "Yes;  the  Company, 
you  know.  They  have  appointed  Mr.  Holmes  chief 
engineer  in  my  place." 

She  cried  out  in  indignant  dismay.  "But  how 
could  they  ?  It  is  your  work — all  your  work !  You 
have  given  years  to  bring  it  before  the  world.  They 
never  would  have  known  of  The  King's  Basin  at  all 
but  for  you.  How  dare  they  ?  They  have  no  right !" 

The  engineer  smiled.  "I  was  only  an  employe  of 
Greenfield  and  the  men  who  organized  the  Company, 
you  know.  In  their  eyes  my  relation  to  the  work 
was  the  same  as  that  of  a  Cocopah  Indian  laborer. 
Of  course  it  was  understood  in  a  general  way  that  I 
was  to  have  some  stock  in  the  Company  when  it  war 
organized,  with  the  chief  engineer's  position  at  least, 
but  there  was  nothing  settled.  Nothing  could  be  set 
tled  until  the  actual  completion  of  the  survey,  you 
know.  I  never  dreamed  of  this.  I  can  see  now 
that  it  was  planned  from  the  first  and  that  this  is 
what  Holmes  came  out  here  for.  He  is  a  great 
favorite  of  Greenfield's,  and  I  suppose  they  wanted 
a  man  of  their  own  kind  to  look  after  their  interests. 
But  it  hurts,  Barbara ;  it  hurts." 

For  an  hour  he  stayed  with  her  and  she  helped 
him  as  such  a  woman  always  helps.  But  when  she 
would  have  kept  him  for  supper  he  said:  "No,  I 
must  find  Abe.  I  want  to  tell  the  boy  and  have  it 
over.  You  can  tell  your  father." 

When  Jefferson  Worth  learned  from  his  indignant 
daughter  of  the  Company's  action  he  only  said,  in 

175 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WORTH 

his  precise  way :  "I  figured  that  would  be  their  first 
move.'7  There  was  no  feeling  in  his  voice  or  man 
ner.  It  was  the  simple  verification  of  conclusions 
already  reached  and  considered. 

"Father !"  cried  Barbara.  "Do  you  mean  that  you 
expected  the  Company  to  put  that  man  Holmes  in 
the  Seer's  place?" 

"What  reason  was  there  to  expect  anything  else  ?" 

"But  you  never  said  anything  all  the  time  the  Seer 
was "  She  could  not  continue.  It  was  madden 
ing  to  think  that  while  she  had  been  dreaming  and 
planning  with  the  Seer,  her  father  had  foreseen  that 
their  dreams  would  come  to  nought. 

"If  I  had  you  would  not  have  believed  me."  The 
words  were  merely  a  calm,  emotionless  statement  of 
fact.  "I  told  you  that  the  Company  would  act  only 
from  a  business  standpoint." 

Suddenly  a  new  phase  of  the  situation  flashed 
upon  Barbara.  Controlling  her  emotions  and  search 
ing  her  father's  face  she  asked:  "Daddy,  tell  me 
please :  was  it  because  you  saw  this  that  you  refused 
to  join  the  Company?" 

Jefferson  Worth  considered ;  then  with  marked 
caution  answered :  "That  was  part  of  the  reason." 

"I  think  I  begin  to  understand  a  little.  I'm  glad 
— glad  that  you  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  those 
men.  It  would  have  killed  me  if  you  had  had  any 
part  in  this  now." 

Presently  the  banker  asked :  "Have  you  seen  Abe 
Lee?" 

"No,  why  ?    Do  you  think — have  they  discharged 


176 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

him,   too?     He  wouldn't   stay  anyway   after  their 

treatment  of  the  Seer.    I  wouldn't  want  him  to." 
"They  won't  let  him  out  if  they  can  keep  him. 

Holmes  will  need  him,"  said  Worth.    Then  he  added : 

"You'd  better  tell  Ahe  to  stay." 

Barbara  gasped.    "What  do  you  mean  ?" 
"Tell  him  to  stay,"  repeated  Worth  slowly. 


177 


CHAPTER  XL 
ABE  LEE  RESIGNS, 

\"N  obedience  to  its  master  passion — Good 
Business — the  race  now  began  pouring  its 
life  into  the  barren  wastes  of  The  King's 
Basin  Desert. 

In  the  city  by  the  sea  at  the  end  of  the  South 
western  and  Continental  there  was  a  suite  of  offices 
with  real  gold  letters  on  the  ground-glass  doors  richly 
spelling  "The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation 
Company."  Behind  these  doors  there  was  real  ma 
hogany  furniture,  solid,  substantial  and  rich;  a  high 
safe ;  many  attractive  maps ;  and  a  gentleman  who — 
never  having  traveled  west  of  Buffalo  before — could 
answer  with  authority  every  conceivable  question 
relating  to  the  reclamation  of  the  arid  lands  of  the 
great  West.  When  there  were  no  more  questions  to 
ask  he  could  still  tell  you  many  things  of  the  won 
derland  of  wealth  that  was  being  opened  to  the  public 
by  the  Company,  demonstrating  thus  beyond  the  pos 
sibility  of  a  doubt  how  many  times  a  dollar  could  be 
multiplied. 

From  this  office  went  forth  to  the  advertising  de 
partments  of  the  magazines  and  papers,  skillfully 
prepared  copy,  which  in  turn  was  followed  by  pam 
phlets,  circulars  and  letters  innumerable.  In  one 
room  a  company  of  clerks  and  book-keepers  and 

178 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

accountants  pored  over  their  tasks  at  desks  and  coun 
ters.  In  another  a  squad  of  stenographers  filled  the 
air  with  the  sound  of  their  type-writers.  Through 
the  doors  of  the  different  rooms  passed  an  endless 
procession;  men  from  the  front  with  the  marks  of 
the  desert  sun  on  their  faces — engineers,  superin 
tendents,  bosses,  messengers,  agents — servants  of  the 
Company;  laborers  of  every  sort  and  nationality 
came  in  answer  to  the  cry :  "Men  wanted !" ;  special 
salesmen  from  foundry,  factory  and  shop  drawn  by 
prospective  large  sales  of  machinery,  implements  and 
supplies;  land-hungry  men  from  everywhere  seeking 
information  and  opportunity  for  investment. 

At  Deep  Well  (which  is  no  well  at  all)  on  the 
rim  of  the  Basin,  trainloads  of  supplies,  implements, 
machinery,  lumber  and  construction  material,  horses, 
mules  and  men  were  daily  side-tracked  and  unloaded 
on  the  desert  sands.  Overland  travelers  gazed  in 
startled  wonder  at  the  scene  of  stirring  activity  that 
burst  so  suddenly  upon  them  in  the  midst  of  the 
barren  land  through  which  they  had  ridden  for  hours 
without  sight  of  a  human  habitation  or  sign  of  man. 
The  great  mountain  of  goods,  piled  on  the  dun  plain ; 
the  bands  of  horses  and  mules;  the  camp-fires;  the 
blankets  spread  on  the  bare  ground ;  the  men  moving 
here  and  there  in  seemingly  hopeless  confusion;  all 
looked  so  ridiculously  out  of  place  and  so  pitifully 
helpless. 

Every  hour  companies  of  men  with  teams  and 
vehicles  set  out  from  the  camp  to  be  swallowed  up  in 
the  silent  distance.  Night  and  day  the  huge  moun 
tain  of  goods  was  attacked  by  the  freighters  who, 

179 


THE  WIKNTffG  OF  BARBARA  WOKTH 

with  their  big  wagons  drawn  by  six,  eight,  twelve,  or 
more,  mules,  appeared  mysteriously  out  of  the  weird 
landscape  as  if  they  were  spirits  materialized  by  some 
mighty  unknown  genii  of  the  desert.  Their  heavy 
wagons  loaded,  their  water  barrels  filled,  they  turned 
again  to  the  unseen  realm  from  which  they  had  been 
summoned.  The  sound  of  the  loud  voices  of  the  driv 
ers,  the  creaking  of  the  wagons,  the  jingle  of  harness, 
the  shot-like  reports  of  long  whips  died  quickly  away ; 
while,  to  the  vision,  the  outfits  passed  slowly — fading, 
dissolving  in  their  great  clouds  of  dust,  into  the  land 
of  mystery. 

In  Rubio  City  Jefferson  Worth  continued  on  his 
machine-like  way  at  the  Pioneer  Bank,  apparently 
paying  no  heed  to  the  movement  that  offered  such 
opportunities  for  profitable  investment.  Barbara 
rarely  spoke  now  of  the  work  that  had  been  so  dear 
to  her,  nor  did  she  ever  ride  to  the  foot  of  the  hill 
on  the  Mesa  to  look  over  the  Desert.  The  Seer  was  in 
the  northern  railroad  work  again,  but  Abe  Lee,  with 
Tex  and  Pat  and  Pablo  Garcia,  had  gone  with  the 
beginning  of  the  stream  of  life  that  was  pouring 
into  the  new  country. 

True  to  the  far-reaching  plans  of  the  Company, 
at  the  largest  and  most  central  of  the  supply  camps, 
located  in  the  very  heart  of  The  King's  Basin,  the 
townsite  of  Kingston  was  laid  out,  and  even  in  the 
days  when  every  drop  of  water  was  hauled  from 
three  to  ten  miles  town  lots  were  offered  for  sale 
and  sold  to  eager  speculators. 

A  year  from  the  beginning  of  the  work  at  the 
intake  at  the  river,  water  was  turned  into  the  canals. 

180 


THE  WIN.NTXG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

With  the  coming  of  the  water,  Kingston  changed, 
almost  between  suns,  from  a  rude  supply  camp  to  an 
established  town  with  post-office,  stores,  hotel,  black 
smith  shop,  livery  stables,  all  in  buildings  more  or 
less  substantial.  Most  substantial  of  all  was  the 
building  owned  and  occupied  by  the  offices  of  the 
Company. 

With  the  coming  of  the  water  also,  the  stream  of 
human  life  that  flowed  into  the  Basin  was  swollen 
by  hundreds  of  settlers  driven  by  the  master  passion 
— Good  Business — to  toil  and  traffic,  to  build  the 
city,  to  subdue  and  cultivate  the  land  and,  thus  to 
realize  the  Seer's  dream,  while  the  engineer  himself 
was  banished  from  the  work  to  which  he  had  given 
his  life.  Every  sunrise  saw  new  tent-houses  spring 
ing  up  on  the  claims  of  the  settlers  around  the  Com 
pany  town  and  new  buildings  beginning  in  the  center 
of  it  all — Kingston.  Every  sunset  saw  miles  of  new 
ditches  ready  to  receive  the  water  from  the  canal  and 
acres  of  new  land  cleared  and  graded  for  irrigation. 

Thus  it  was  that  afternoon  when,  from  his  office 
window,  Mr.  Burk,  the  General  Manager  of  The 
King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company, 
watched  a  freighter  with  a  twelve-mule  load  of  goods 
stop  his  team  directly  across  the  street  in  front  of  the 
largest  and  most  important  general  store  in  the 
Basin. 

Deck  Jordan,  the  merchant,  came  out  and  the 
Manager  easily  heard  the  driver's  loud  voice: 
"Jim'll  be  along  in  'bout  another  hour,  I  reckon. 
We  aim  to  get  the  rest  in  two  more  trips." 

"Six  twelve-mule  loads  in  that  shipment,"  thought 

181 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

the  Company's  manager;   "and  that  fellow  set  up 
business  with  a  two-horse  load  of  stuff !" 

An  empty  wagon  was  driven  up  to  the  store  and 
the  General  Manager  recognized  in  the  driver  one  of 
the  Company's  men  from  a  grading  camp  six  miles 
away ;  while  another  wagon — a  Company  wagon  also 
— nearly  filled  with  supplies  moved  away  toward  the 
open  desert. 

Deck's  business  was  assuming  quite  respectable 
proportions  thought  Mr.  Burk.  And  Deck's  business 
was  mostly  with  employes  of  the  Company.  Taking 
a  cigar  from  a  box  on  his  desk,  Mr.  Burk  scratched  a 
match  on  the  heel  of  his  shoe  and,  leaning  back  in 
his  office  chair,  continued  thinking.  The  Manager 
of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company 
was  paid  to  think.  The  Company  hired  Mr.  Burk's 
peculiar  talent  even  as  they  hired  the  physical 
strength  of  their  laborers  or  the  professional  skill  of 
their  engineers. 

As  he  meditated,  the  Manager  still  watched  from 
the  window  the  activities  of  the  street.  Soon  from 
the  open  desert,  beyond  the  last  new  building  down 
the  street,  he  saw  a  horseman  approaching.  At  an 
easy  swinging  lope  the  rider  came  straight  toward  the 
Company's  headquarters  and,  as  he  drew  near,  the 
Manager  recognized  the  chief  engineer.  Greeting  the 
man  at  the  open  window  as  he  passed,  Willard 
Holmes  dismounted  at  the  entrance  of  the  building 
and,  going  first  to  the  water  tank,  soon  appeared  in 
the  doorway  of  the  Manager's  room.  The  engineer's 
clothes  from  boots  to  Stetson  were  covered  with  dust 


182 


THE  WIPING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

and  his  face  was  deeply  bronzed  by  the  months  in  the 
open  air. 

Turning  from  the  window  Mr.  Burk  held  out  the 
box  of  cigars. 

"No  thanks,"  said  the  Chief  with  a  smile.  "I'm 
hot  as  a  lime  kiln  now.  Wait  until  after  supper." 

Throwing  his  hat  and  gloves  on  the  floor,  he 
dropped  into  a  chair  with  a  sigh  of  relief  at  the 
grateful  coolness  of  the  room  after  hours  of  riding  in 
the  dazzling  light  of  the  desert  sun. 

The  other,  returning  the  box  to  its  place,  tipped 
back  in  his  chair  and  elevated  his  well-dressed  feet 
to  his  desk  and,  with  his  cigar  in  one  corner  of  his 
mouth  and  his  head  cocked  suggestively  to  one  side, 
looked  his  companion  over  with  a  critical  smile.  "I 
say,  Holmes,  how  would  you  like  to  be  in  little  old 
New  York  this  evening?" 

At  the  question  and  the  manner  of  the  speaker 
the  engineer  held  up  his  hands  with  a  motion  of 
protest  as  he  commanded,  in  tragic  voice :  "Get  thee 
behind  me,  Satan!"  Then,  at  the  Manager's  laugh, 
he  added  seriously:  "New  York  is  all  right,  Burk, 
but  I  guess  I  can  manage  to  stick  it  out  here  a  while 
longer." 

Burk  looked  at  the  engineer  with  the  same  thought 
ful  expression  that  had  marked  his  face  when  he 
watched  the  wagon-load  of  supplies  before  the  store 
across  the  street.  "I  have  noticed  that  you  show 
symptoms  of  slowly  developing  an  interest  in  your 
job,"  he  murmured.  "You  were  at  the  river  yester 
day." 


183 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOKTH 

"No;  I  was  at  Number  Five  Heading.  Abe  Lee 
will  be  in  from  the  intake  this  afternoon.  I  was 
there  day  before  yesterday." 

"How  is  the  little  old  Colorado  behaving  herself  ?" 

"All  right  so  far.  Our  work  is  all  a  guess  though. 
There  is  not  a  scrap  of  data  to  go  on,  you  know." 
There  was  a  hint  of  anxiety  in  the  chief  engineer's 
answer. 

"I  suppose  you  find  the  talkative  Abe  cheerfully 
optimistic  about  the  future  of  our  structures  as 
usual  ?" 

Holmes  did  not  smile  at  the  jesting  tone  of  the 
Manager.  "Lee  is  certainly  doing  all  he  can  to  make 
things  safe.  He  is  a  fiend  for  thoroughness,  and 
between  you  and  me,  Burk,  the  Company  ought  to 
spend  more  money  on  that  intake  at  least.  A  few 
more  thousands  would  make  it  what  it  should  be." 

The  man  who  was  paid  to  think  held  out  a  hand 
protestingly.  "My  dear  boy,  how  many  times  have 
we  gone  over  that?  The  Company  will  spend  just 
what  they  must  spend  to  get  this  scheme  going  and 
not  a  cent  more.  Later,  when  the  business  justifies, 
they  will  improve  the  system.  Don't  get  yourself 
sidetracked  by  the  notion  that  this  whole  project  is 
for  the  benefit  of  the  dear  people  and  that  the  Com 
pany  is  made  up  of  benevolent  old  gentlemen,  who 
have  nothing  to  do  with  their  wealth  but  promote 
philanthropic  enterprises.  You  should  know  your 
Uncle  Jim  better.  Dividends,  my  boy,  dividends; 
that's  what  we're  all  here  for,  and  you  can't  afford  to 
forget  it.  By  the  way,  did  you  have  any  dinner 
to-day  r 

184 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"I  struck  Camp  Seven  on  the  Alamitos  at  noon/ 

"Hum-m.  Sour  bread,  sow-belly,  frijoles?  Or 
was  it  canned  corn  ?  I  say,  old  man,  do  you  remem 
ber  some  of  the  places  where  we  used  to  dine  at  homo 
— flowers  and  music,  and  table  linen,  and  real  dishes, 
and  waiters  with  real  food,  and  women — God  bless 
'em! — real  women?  What  would  you  give  to-night, 
Holmes,  for  something  to  eat  that  had  never  beer 
preserved,  embalmed,  cured,  dried  or  tinned?  It's 
not  a  dream  of  fairyland,  my  boy;  there  are  such 
places  in  the  world  and  there  are  such  things  to  eat. 
Come,  what  do  you  say?  WThere  shall  we  dine  to 
night  and  what  will  you  have  ?" 

"You  fiend!"  growled  Holmes.  "You  know  I'd 
sell  my  soul  this  minute  for  one  good  red  apple." 

Lowering  his  feet  to  the  floor  and  rising,  the  Man 
ager  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Com 
pany  crossed  the  room  stealthily  and  carefully  closed 
the  door.  Then  taking  a  bunch  of  keys  from  his 
pocket,  with  an  air  of  great  secrecy  he  unlocked  a 
drawer  in  his  desk,  pulled  it  open  and  took  out — an 
apple. 

The  Company's  chief  engineer  fell  on  the  Manager 
with  an  exclamation  of  amazement  and  delight. 

"Really,"  said  Burk  as  he  watched  the  fruit  disap 
pear,  "your  child-like  pleasure  almost  justifies  my 
crime.  I  even  feel  repaid  for  my  self-denial.  There 
were  only  three  in  the  basket." 

"How  did  you  do  it  ?"  asked  Holmes  between  bites, 
gazing  at  the  apple  in  his  hand  as  though  to  devour 
the  treat  with  his  eyes  also,  thereby  doubling  the 
pleasure, 

185 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"It  was  one  of  our  dearly  beloved  prospective  set 
tlers,"  the  thoughtful  Manager  explained  with  an  air 
of  conscious  merit.  "He  came  in  from  somewhere 
yesterday  to  spy  out  the  land  and,  being  a  prudent 
and  thrifty  farmer,  he  possesses,  or  is  possessed  by,  a 
prudent  and  thrifty  wife.  Said  wife  fitted  out  said 
farmer  for  his  journey  into  this  far  country  with  a 
market  basket  of  provisions.  Home-made  provisions, 
Willard,  my  son ;  home  made  !  A  whole  basket  full ! 
He  had  one  feed  left  and  was  finishing  it  out  there 
on  the  sidewalk  when  I  returned  from  what  we  of 
this  benighted  land  call  dinner.  How  could  I  help 
looking.  I  watched  him  devour  the  leg  of  a  chicken. 
I  watched  him  eat  real  bread  with  jelly  on  it.  Then 
I  caught  sight  of  three  apples — three  I  Holmes,  such 
wealth  is  criminal.  I  considered — I  became  an 
anarchist.  He  was  a  big  husky  and  I  dared  not 
assault  him,  so  I  talked — Lord  forgive  me! — how 
I  talked.  I  offered  confidential  advice,  I  conjured 
up  visions  of  wealth  untold.  I  laid  him  under  a 
spell  and  gently  led  him  and  his  basket  into  the  office 
even  as  he  finished  the  pie.  I  showed  him  maps;  I 
gave  him  a  cigar ;  I  urged  him  to  leave  his  basket  and 
satchel  here  in  my  private  office  for  safe-keeping 
while  he  looked  around.  Gladly  he  accepted  my 
invitation.  His  confidence  was  pathetic.  How 
could  the  poor,  trusting  farmer  know  that  I  was 
ready,  if  necessary,  to  murder  him  for  his  fortune? 
When  he  had  gone  I  locked  the  door  and  I — I — 
I  only  took  two,  Holmes ;  I  dared  not  take  them  all, 
for  he  was  big  and  rough,  as  I  say.  But  I  could  not 


186 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

believe  that  a  man  with  such  wealth  could  miss  a 
part  of  it." 

"But  you  said  you  ate  two/7  said  the  engineer 
severely,  taking  another  long,  lingering  bite. 

"I  did,"  returned  the  Manager,  with  awful  solem 
nity.  "When  that  trusting  but  husky  farmer  re 
turned  later  for  his  possessions  he  thanked  me  many 
times  for  my  kindness  while  I  trembled  with  the 
consciousness  of  my  guilt,  assuring  him  that  it  was 
no  trouble  at  all — no  trouble  at  all.  And  then — just 
as  I  felt  sure  that  he  was  going  and  was  beginning 
to  breathe  easier — he  stopped  and  fumbled  around  in 
his  basket.  My  heart  stood  still.  'Hannah  put  some 
fine  apples  in  my  dinner/  he  muttered.  'I  thought 
maybe  you  might  like  some.  Reckon  I  must  a-et 
'em  after  all.  I  thought  there  was — no,  by  jocks  1 
here  she  is.'  Holmes,  as  I  live  he  handed  me  that 
other  apple.  It  was  positively  uncanny.  I  was 
speechless.  Not  until  he  was  gone  did  I  realize  that 
it  was  prophetic.  In  like  manner  shall  the  settlers, 
the  farmers,  save  this  land  and  us  from  destruction." 

"It's  Good  Business/'  returned  Holmes.  "It 
exactly  illustrates  your  methods  of  dealing  with  the 
confiding  public." 

"Humph !"  grunted  the  other.  "I  observe  that  you 
do  not  hesitate  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  my  financier- 
ing." 

A  knock  at  the  door  prevented  the  engineer's  reply. 

"Come  in!"  called  Burk. 

The  door  opened  and  Abe  Lee  stood  on  the  thresh 
old.  The  two  men  greeted  the  surveyor  cordially 


1ST 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

but  with  that  subtle  touch  in  their  voices  that  hinted 
at  consciousness  of  superior  position  and  authority. 

Abe  addressed  himself  directly  to  his  Chief,  say 
ing:  "We  finished  at  the  intake  last  night,  sir,  and 
moved  to  Dry  River  Heading  this  morning  as  you 
directed." 

"You  left  everything  at  the  river  in  good  shape, 
of  course  ?" 

The  surveyor  did  not  answer.  The  tobacco  and 
paper  that,  in  his  long  fingers,  were  assuming  the 
form  of  a  cigarette  seemed  to  demand  his  undivided 
attention.  Burk  was  thoughtfully  watching  the  two 
men.  At  the  critical  moment  he  handed  Abe  a  match. 
From  the  cloud  of  smoke  Abe  spoke  again.  "The 
outfit  will  be  ready  to  begin  work  at  the  Heading- 
to-morrow  morning." 

Before  Holmes  could  speak  the  Manager  said: 
"You  evidently  still  think,  Lee,  that  the  work  at  the 
river  is  not  satisfactory.  Are  you  still  predicting 
that  our  intake  will  go  out  with  the  next  high  water  ?" 

"I  don't  know  whether  the  next  high  water  will 
do  it  or  not.  The  Rio  Colorado  alone  won't  hurt  us, 
but  when  the  Gila  and  the  Little  Colorado  go  on  the 
war-path  and  come  down  on  top  of  a  high  Colorado 
flood  you'll  catch  hell.  It  may  be  this  season ;  it  may 
be  next.  It  depends  on  the  snowfall  in  the  upper 
countries  and  the  weather  in  the  spring,  but  it  lias 
come  and  it  will  come  again." 

"How  do  you  know  ?  There  have  been  no  records 
kept  and  no  surveys.  We  have  no  data." 

"There's  data  enough.  The  Colorado  leaves  her 
own  record.  I  know  the  country;  I  know  what  the 

188 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAEA  WORTH 

river  has  done  and  I  know  what  the  Indians  have 
told  me." 

At  the  surveyor's  words  his  Chief  stirred  impa 
tiently  and  the  Manager  answered:  "But  we  can't 
spend  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  dollars  on  a  mere 
guess  at  what  may  happen,  Lee.  When  the  country 
is  fairly  well  settled  and  business  justifies,  we  will 
put  in  a  new  intake.  In  the  meantime  those  struc 
tures  will  have  to  do.  The  K,  B.  L.  and  I.  is  not 
in  business  for  glory,  you  know." 

Abe  spoke  softly  from  a  cloud  of  smoke.  "And 
are  you  explaining  this  situation  to  the  people  who 
are  coming  here  by  the  hundreds  to  settle  ?  Do  they 
understand  the  chances  they  are  taking  when  they 
buy  water  rights  and  go  ahead  to  develop  their 
ranches  ?" 

"Certainly  not.  If  we  talked  risks  no  one  would 
come  in.  The  Company  must  protect  its  interests." 

"Who  protects  the  settlers'  interests  ?" 

The  Manager  stiffened.  "I  don't  recognize  your 
right  to  criticise  the  Company's  policy,  Lee.  Mr. 
Holmes  is  our  chief  engineer  and  he  assures  me  that 
our  structures  are  as  good  as  they  can  be  made  with 
the  money  at  our  disposal.  We  can  only  carry  out 
the  policies  of  the  Company  and  we  are  responsible 
to  them  for  the  money  we  spend.  You  have  no 
responsibility  in  the  matter  whatever." 

"Oh,  hell,  Burk,"  drawled  Abe,  though  his  eyes 
contradicted  flatly  his  soft  tone.  "There's  no  occa 
sion  for  you  to  climb  so  high  up  that  ladder.  You've 
been  a  corporation  mouthpiece  so  long  you  have  no 
more  soul  than  the  Company."  He  turned  to  his 

389 


THE  WIKN1]S)G  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Chief.  "I  left  Andy  in  charge  at  camp.  He  under 
stands  that  I  will  not  be  back.  I  dropped  my  resigna 
tion  in  your  box  in  the  office  as  I  came  in.  Adios." 

Leaving  the  office,  Abe  walked  slowly  down  the 
street  through  the  heart  of  the  Company's  little  town. 
On  every  hand  he  saw  the  work  that  was  being 
wrought  in  the  Desert.  There  were  business  blocks 
and  houses  in  every  stage  of  building  from  the  new- 
laid  foundation  to  the  moving-in  of  the  tenants.  The 
air  rang  with  sound  of  hammer  and  saw.  Teams  and 
wagons  from  the  ranches  lined  the  street.  The  very 
faces  of  the  people  he  met  glowed  with  enthusiasm, 
while  determination  and  purpose  were  expressed  in 
their  very  movements  as  they  hurried  by. 

A  mile  west  of  town  the  surveyor  stopped  on  the 
bridge  that  spanned  the  main  canal.  He  paused  to 
look  around.  He  saw  the  country  already  dotted  with 
the  white  tent-houses  of  the  settlers,  and  even  as  he 
looked  three  new  wagons,  loaded  with  supplies  and 
implements,  passed,  bound  for  the  claims  of  the 
owners.  Under  his  feet  the  water  from  the  distant 
river  ran  strongly.  To  the  west  was  a  grading  camp 
on  the  line  of  a  Company  ditch;  to  the  south  was 
another.  Far  to  the  north  and  east,  along  the  rim 
of  the  Basin,  he  knew  the  railroad  was  bringing  other 
pioneers  by  the  hundreds.  He  drew  a  deep  breath 
and,  taking  off  his  sombrero,  drank  in  the  scene. 
How  he  loved  it  all!  It  was  the  Seer's  dream,  but 
the  Seer  could  have  no  part  in  it.  It  was  Barbara's 
Desert,  but  Barbara  was  shut  out — exiled.  It  was 
his  work,  but  he  was  powerless  to  do  it.  The  Seer 


190 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

had  told  him  to  stay  for  his  work's  sake.  He  smiled 
grimly,  remembering  the  Manager's  words.  Barbara 
had  told  him  to  stay,  but  the  girl  knew  nothing  of 
conditions — how  could  she  know?  Jefferson  Worth 
had  told  him  to  stay.  Why  ?  Barbara,  in  her  letters, 
never  spoke  of  the  work.  The  Seer  seldom  wrote; 
Jefferson  Worth,  never.  Every  month  the  situation 
had  grown  more  unbearable.  Burk  might  insist  that 
he  had  no  responsibility  and  Holmes  might  argue 
that  they  could  only  do  their  best  with  what  funds 
the  Company  would  supply.  Abe  was  not  of  their 
school.  Well,  he  was  out  of  it  now  for  good.  He 
was  not  the  kind  of  a  man  the  Company  wanted. 

Eeturning  to  town  he  had  supper  at  the  little 
shack  restaurant  and,  going  to  the  tent  house  owned 
by  himself  and  two  brother-surveyors  that  they  might 
have  a  place  to  sleep  when  in  town,  he  gathered  his 
few  possessions  together  in  readiness  for  departure 
in  the  morning. 

When  the  brief  task  was  finished  and  he  had  writ 
ten  a  note  to  his  two  friends,  who  were  away,  he  went 
out  again  on  the  main  street,  because  there  was  noth 
ing  else  to  do.  It  was  evening  now  and  the  usual  crowd 
was  gathered  in  front  of  the  post-office  to  watch  the 
arrival  of  the  stage,  the  one  event  of  never-failing 
interest  to  these  hardy  pioneers.  In  the  throng  there 
were  teamsters,  laborers,  ranchers,  mechanics,  real- 
estate  agents,  speculators,  surveyors — gathered  from 
camp  and  field  and  town.  Some  were  expecting 
letters  from  the  home  folks  in  the  world  outside;  a 
few  were  looking  for  friends  among  the  passengers. 


191 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Many  were  there,  as  was  Abe,  because  it  was  the 
point  of  interest.  All  were  roughly  clad,  marked  by 
the  semi-tropical  desert  wind  and  sun. 

It  was  among  such  men  as  these  that  Abe  Lee's 
life  had  been  spent.  Such  scenes  as  these  were  home 
scenes  to  him.  In  a  peculiar  way,  through  the  Seer 
and  Barbara,  the  work  that  these  men  were  doing 
was  dear  to  him.  He  felt  that  he  was  being  cast  out 
of  his  own  place.  As  he  passed  through  the  throng 
Abe  heard  always  the  same  topic  of  conversation :  the 
work — the  work — the  work.  News  to  these  men 
meant  more  miles  of  canal  finished,  new  ditches  dug, 
more  land  leveled  and  graded,  new  settlers  located. 
The  surveyor  thought  of  the  future  of  these  people, 
given  wholly  into  the  hands  of  the  Company;  of 
the  men  in  the  East,  who  knew  nothing  of  their 
hardships  but  who  would  force  them  to  pay  royal 
tribute  out  of  the  fruits  of  their  toil;  of  how,  even 
then,  they  were  increasing  the  value  of  the  Company 
property. 

"Here  she  comes!"  cried  someone,  and  all  eyes 
were  turned  to  see  the  stage  swinging  down  the 
street.  Abe  drew  back  a  little — to  the  thin  edge  of 
the  crowd;  he  was  expecting  neither  letters  nor 
friends.  The  six  broncos  were  brought  to  a  stand 
in  the  midst  of  the  crowd,  the  mail  bag  was  tossed 
to  the  post-master  and  the  passengers  began  climbing 
down  from  their  seats. 

As  the  last  man  rose  from  his  place  he  stood  for 
a  moment  in  a  stooped  position,  gripping  with  each 
hand  one  of  the  standards  that  supported  the  canvas 
top  of  the  vehicle.  Looking  out  thus  over  the  crowd 

192 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

he  seemed  to  be  gathering  data  for  an  estimate  of 
the  population  before  he  felt  cautiously  with  his  foot 
for  the  step. 

Abe  Lee  started  forward  with  an  exclamation. 

It  was  Jefferson  Worth ! 


193 


CHAPTER  XII. 
SIGNS  OF  CONFLICT. 

|OT  a  line  of  Jefferson  Worth's  countenance 
changed  as  the  tall  surveyor,  pushing  his 
way  through  the  crowd  about  the  new 
arrivals,  greeted  him.  But  Abe  Lee  felt  the  man 
from  behind  his  gray  mask  reaching  out  to  grasp 
his  innermost  thoughts  and  emotions. 

"Where  is  the  hotel?" 

Abe  explained  that  the  rough  board  shelter  that 
bore  that  name  was  full,  to  the  door.  People  were 
even  sleeping  on  the  floor.  "But  there  is  room  in 
our  tent,  Mr.  Worth,"  he  finished  and  led  the  way 
out  of  the  crowd. 

To  the  surveyor's  eager  questions  the  banker 
answered  that  Barbara  was  visiting  friends  in  the 
Coast  city. 

When  they  had  reached  the  tent  and  Abe  had 
found  and  lighted  a  lantern,  Mr.  Worth  said — and 
his  manner  was  as  though  he  were  continuing  a  con 
versation  that  had  been  interrupted  only  for  a 
moment — "well,  I  see  you  stayed." 

At  his  words  the  surveyor,  who  was  filling  a  tin 
wash-basin  with  fresh  water  that  his  guest  might 
wash  away  the  dust  of  his  journey,  felt  the  hot  blood 
in  his  cheeks.  Before  answering  he  pulled  an  old 
cracker-box  from  under  a  cot  in  one  corner  of  the 

194 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

canvas  room  and,  rummaging  therein,  brought  to 
light  a  clean  towel.  When  he  had  placed  this  evi 
dence  of  civilization  beside  the  basin  on  the  box  that 
did  duty  as  a  wash-stand,  he  answered :  "I  quit  the 
Company  this  afternoon. " 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  won't  do  the  kind  of  work  the  Com 
pany  wants."  The  surveyor  spoke  hotly  now.  The 
man  busy  with  the  basin  of  water  made  no  comment, 
and  Abe  continued:  "Mr.  Worth,  they  are  putting 
in  the  cheapest  possible  kind  of  wooden  structures 
all  through  the  system,  even  at  points  where  the 
safety  of  the  whole  project  depends  on  the  control 
of  the  water.  The  intake  itself  is  nothing  but  the 
flimsiest  sort  of  a  makeshift.  One  good  flood,  such 
as  we  have  every  few  years,  and  there  wouldn't  be  a 
damned  stick  of  it  left  in  twelve  hours.  You  remem 
ber  what  the  grade  is  from  the  river  at  the  point  of 
the  intake  this  way  into  the  Basin  and  you  know 
how  water  cuts  this  soil.  If  that  gate  goes  out  the 
whole  river  will  come  through;  and  these  settlers, 
who  are  tumbling  over  each  other  to  put  into  this 
country  every  cent  they  have  in  the  world,  will  lose 
everything." 

"The  Company  takes  its  chances  with  the  settlers, 
doesn't  it  ?" 

"The  Company  takes  mighty  small  chances  com 
pared  to  the  risk  the  settlers  are  carrying.  As  a 
matter  of  fact,  Mr.  Worth,  it  is  the  people  who  are 
building  this  system;  not  the  Company  at  all.  To 
prove  up  on  these  desert  claims  the  government  com 
pels  them  to  have  the  water.  They  can't  use  the 

195 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

water  without  paying  the  Company  for  the  right. 
After  they  have  bought  the  water  rights  then  they 
must  pay  for  every  acre-foot  they  use.  All  Green 
field  and  his  bunch  did  was  to  put  up  enough  to  start 
the  thing  going  and  the  people  are  doing  the  rest. 
The  Company  knows  the  risk  and  stakes  a  com 
paratively  small  amount  of  capital.  The  settlers 
know  nothing  of  the  real  conditions  and  stake  every 
thing  they  have  in  the  world.  If  the  Company  would 
tell  the  people  the  situation  it  would  be  square,  but 
you  know  what  would  happen  if  they  did  that.  No 
one  would  come  in.  As  it  is,  the  Company,  by  risk 
ing  the  smallest  amount  possible,  leads  the  people  to 
risk  everything  they  have  and  yet  the  Greenfield 
crowd  stands  to  win  big  on  the  whole  stake." 

Mr.  Worth  was  drying  his  slim  fingers  with  careful 
precision.  "I  figured  that  was  the  way  it  would  be 
done.  That's  the  way  all  these  big  enterprises  are 
launched.  The  first  work  is  always  done  on  a  pro 
moter's  estimate.  Later,  when  the  business  justifies, 
the  system  will  be  strengthened  and  improved." 

"Which  means,"  retorted  the  surveyor,  "that  when 
the  Company  has  taken  enough  money  from  the  set 
tlers,  whom  they  have  induced  to  stake  everything 
they  have  on  the  gamble  by  letting  them  think  it  is 
a  sure  thing,  they  will  use  a  part  of  it  to  give  the 
people  what  they  think  they  are  getting  now." 

The  banker  laid  the  towel  carefully  aside  and  dis 
posed  of  the  water  in  the  wash-basin  by  the  primitive 
method  of  throwing  it  from  the  tent  door.  Then  he 
spoke  again:  "The  people  themselves  could  never 
start  a  work  like  this,  and  if  there  wasn't  a  chance 

196 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

to  make  a  big  thing  Capital  wouldn't.  It's  the  size 
of  the  profit  compared  with  the  amount  invested  that 
draws  Capital  into  this  kind  of  a  thing.  If  the  Com 
pany  had  to  take  all  the  chance  in  this  project  they 
would  simply  stay  out  and  the  work  would  never  be 
done.  This  feature  of  unequal  risk  is  the  very  thing, 
and  the  only  thing,  that  could  attract  the  money  to 
start  this  proposition  going;  and  that's  what  people 
like  you  and  the  Seer  and  Barbara  can't  see.  Holmes 
and  Burk  can't  help  themselves.  It's  Greenfield  and 
the  Company,  and  they  are  just  as  honest  as  other 
men.  They  are  simply  promoting  this  scheme  in  the 
only  way  possible  to  start  it  and  the  people  will  share 
the  results." 

"Holmes  and  Burk  are  all  right,  except  that 
they're  owned  body  and  soul  by  the  Company,"  said 
Abe  quickly.  "But  Greenfield  and  the  men  who 
engineered  this  thing  look  to  me  like  a  bunch  of 
green-goods  men  who  live  on  the  confidence  of  the 
people." 

"The  people  will  gain  their  farms  just  the  same," 
returned  the  financier.  "They  wouldn't  have  any 
thing  without  the  Company." 

The  surveyor  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Well,  you 
may  be  right,  Mr.  Worth;  but  I've  had  all  I  can 
stand  of  it." 

Again  Jefferson  Worth  looked  full  into  the 
younger  man's  eyes  and  Abe  felt  that  Something 
behind  the  mask  reaching  out  to  seize  the  thoughts 
and  motives  that  lay  back  of  his  words:  "What  are 
you  going  to  do  ?" 

"I  don't  know.     Punch  steers  or  get  a  job  in  a 

197 


THE  WIKN1NG  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

mine  somewhere,  I  reckon.  I'm  going  somewhere 
out  of  this.  I've  had  enough  of  promoter's  esti 
mates." 

"Suppose  you  stay  and  work  for  me." 

Abe  Lee  sprang  to  his  feet.  "Work  for  you? 
Here?  I  thought  you  had  refused  to  go  into  this 
deal ?" 

"I  declined  to  join  Greenfield's  Company,"  said 
the  banker  exactly. 

"Do  you  mean,  Mr.  Worth,  that  you  are  going  to 
operate  in  the  Basin  independently,  knowing  the 
Company's  strength  and  the  whole  situation  as  you 
do?" 

"I  have  decided  to  take  a  chance  with  the  rest," 
was  the  unemotional  answer.  "I  sold  out  of  the  bank 
and  cleaned  up  everything  in  Rubio  City  last  week." 

"But  what  are  you  going  into  here  ?" 

"I  can  use  you  if  you  want  to  stay,"  came  the 
cautious  answer. 

"Stay?    Of  course  I'll  stay!" 

It  was  characteristic  of  these  men  that  nothing  was 
said  of  salary  on  either  side.  Extinguishing  the 
lantern,  Abe  led  the  way  out  into  the  night.  The 
darkness  was  intense  and  unrelieved  save  by  the  thin 
broken  line  of  twinkling  lights  from  the  windows  of 
the  buildings,  which  gave  them  the  direction  of  the 
main  street,  and  the  few  dull  glowing  tent  houses, 
whose  tenants  were  at  home.  Overhead  the  desert 
stars  shone  with  a  brilliance  that  put  to  shame  the 
feeble  efforts  of  the  earth-men,  while  about  the  little 
pioneer  town  the  desert  night  drew  close  with  its 
circling  wall  of  mystery. 

198 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

Did  Jefferson  Worth  think,  as  he  stumbled  along 
by  the  surveyor's  side,  of  that  other  night  in  The 
Hollow  of  God's  Hand,  when  he  had  faced,  alone,  the 
spirit  of  the  land  ? 

"This  town  needs  an  electric  lighting  system,"  he 
said  in  his  colorless  voice. 

When  Jefferson  Worth  had  finished  supper  in  the 
shack  restaurant  he  proposed  cautiously  that  they 
look  around  a  little.  The  street  was  lined  with  teams 
and  saddle  horses,  their  forms  shadowy  and  indis 
tinct  in  the  dark  places  of  vacant  lots  or  where 
buildings  were  under  construction,  but  standing  forth 
with  startling  clearness  where  the  light  from  a  store 
streamed  forth.  The  sidewalk  was  filled  with  men 
from  the  ranches  and  grading  camps,  who  had  come 
to  town  after  sunset  for  their  mail  or  supplies  so 
that  no  hour  of  the.  day  should  be  lost  to  the  work 
that  had  called  them  into  the  desert ;  and  these  ever- 
shifting  figures  passed  to  and  fro  through  the  bands 
of  light  and  darkness,  gathered  in  groups  in  front  of 
the  stores  and  dissolved  again,  to  form  other  groups 
or  to  lose  themselves  in  the  general  throng.  Every 
moment  a  wagon-load  of  men,  a  party  of  horsemen, 
or  a  single  rider  would  appear  suddenly  and  mys 
teriously  out  of  the  night,  while  others,  leaving  the 
throng  to  depart  in  like  manner,  would  be  swallowed 
up  as  mysteriously  by  the  blackness.  In  the  center 
of  the  picture  and  the  very  heart  of  the  activity  was 
the  general  store  opposite  the  office  of  The  King's 
Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company. 

Deck  Jordan  had  opened  his  store  in  the  days 
when  Kingston  was  still  a  supply  camp.  ~No  one 

199 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

knew  much  about  Deck  or  how  he  had  guessed  that 
the  camp  would  become  the  chief  town  in  the  new 
country.  He  was  a  pleasing,  capable,  but  close- 
mouthed  man,  who  knew  what  to  buy,  paid  his  bills 
promptly  and — with  one  exception — conducted  his 
business  on  a  cash  basis. 

The  exception  to  the  cash  rule  was  in  favor  of  the 
Company's  employes.  It  was  on  Deck's  initiative 
that  an  arrangement  was  made  with  Mr.  Burk  by 
which  the  Company  men  received  credit  at  the  store, 
the  amount  of  their  bills  being  deducted  from  their 
wages  each  month  by  the  Company  paymaster.  It 
was  this  plan  that,  by  giving  Deck  practically  all  of 
the  trade  from  the  hundreds  of  Company  employes, 
had  increased  his  business  so  rapidly.  To  the 
thoughtful  Manager,  also,  the  plan  seemed  good.  He 
foresaw  how,  with  the  Company  thus  controlling  the 
bulk  of  the  merchant's  business,  he  could,  when  the 
proper  time  came,  "persuade"  Deck  to  enter  into  a 
still  "closer"  arrangement — thus  carrying  out  the 
Good  Business  policy  of  the  Company.  That  very 
afternoon  Mr.  Burk  had  decided  the  time  had  come 
and  had  so  written  Mr.  Greenfield. 

Leisurely  Jefferson  Worth  and  his  companion 
worked  their  way  through  the  crowd  and  into  the 
store  where  Deck  and  his  helpers  were  toiling  to 
supply  the  various  needs  of  a  small  army  of  cus 
tomers.  From  the  open  doors  and  from  the  big 
implement  shed  in  the  rear  of  the  building,  a  steady 
stream  of  provisions,  clothing,  dry  goods,  hardware, 
blankets,  harness  and  tools  flowed  forth. 

In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  Deck  himself  was 

200 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

holding  an  animated  conversation  with  a  would-be 
purchaser.  "I'd  be  mighty  glad  to  accommodate 
you,  Sam,  if  I  could,  but  you  know  we're  running 
this  store  on  a  cash  basis  and  I  can't  break  my  rules. 
If  I  begin  with  you  I'll  have  to  do  it  for  everybody 
and  I  can't." 

"You  don't  make  these  Company  men  pay  cash. 
Anybody — Injuns,  greasers  or  anything  else — gets 
what  he  wants  and  no  questions  asked  if  he  works 
for  the  Company." 

"But  that's  different,  you  see,"  explained  Deck. 
"We  have  an  arrangement  with  the  Company  by 
which  they  hold  out  from  each  man's  pay  the  amount 
of  my  bills  against  him." 

"I  understand  that,  but  you'll  find  out  that  it's  the 
rancher's  trade  that'll  keep  you  going.  We'll  be  here 
long  after  these  ditchers  an'  mule  skinners  have  left 
the  country  and  we'll  have  money  to  spend.  You'll 
find,  too,  that  when  things  do  begin  to  come  our  way 
we'll  stand  by  the  store  that'll  stand  by  us  now  when 
we've  got  everything  goin'  out  an'  nothin'  comin'  in." 

Deck,  over  the  shoulder  of  the  rancher,  saw  Jeffer 
son  Worth  and  the  surveyor,  who  with  several  others 
had  drawn  near,  attracted  by  the  loud  tones  of  the 
farmer.  Abe  thought  that  he  caught  a  look  of  recog 
nition  as  Deck's  eyes  fell  on  his  companion  but  the 
banker  gave  no  sign. 

The  merchant,  answering  his  customer,  said:  "I 
know  you  are  right  about  that  part  of  it,  Sam,  and 
I'd  like  to  back  every  rancher  in  this  Basin  if  I 
could.  But  I  can't." 

"Why  not  ?    Ain't  you  runnin'  this  store  3" 

201 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

Before  Deck  could  reply,  to  Abe's  astonishment 
the  quiet  voice  of  Jefferson  Worth  broke  in.  "You 
are  improving  a  ranch  of  your  own  near  here  ?" 

The  settler  turned  sharply.  "You  bet  I  am,  Mister ; 
leastwise,  I'm  tryin'  to,  and  if  workin'  from  sun-up 
'til  dark  an'  livin'  on  nothin'  'til  I  can  make  a 
crop  will  pull  me  through  I'll  make  it." 

"I  suppose  the  heaviest  expense  is  all  in  getting 
started  ?"  asked  Mr.  Worth,  as  if  seeking  to  verify 
an  observation. 

"It  sure  is,"  replied  the  pioneer.  "There's  the 
outfit  you've  got  to  have — work-stock  an'  tools; 
you've  got  to  build  your  ditches  and  grade  your  land ; 
and  you've  got  to  buy  water  rights  and  pay  for  your 
water ;  and  you've  got  to  make  your  payments  to  the 
government.  Then  there's  feed  for  your  work-stock 
and  yourself,  an'  there  ain't  nothin'  to  bring  in  a 
cent  'til  you  can  make  a  crop.  The  farmers  that  are 
comin'  into  this  country  ain't  got  a  great  big  pile  of 
ready  money  stacked  away,  Mister,  an'  they're 
mighty  apt  to  run  a  little  short  the  first  year.  When 
our  home  merchants,  who  expect  to  make  their  money 
off  from  us,  won't  even  trust  us  for  a  few  dollars' 
worth  of  provisions  'til  we  can  get  a  start,  I'm 
damned  if  it  ain't  tough." 

"But  everyone  is  a  stranger  in  this  new  country," 
said  Mr.  Worth.  "How  can  a  merchant  know  whether 
a  man  will  pay  or  not  ?  I  suppose  there  are  ranchers 
coming  in  here  who  would  beat  a  bill  if  they  could. 
The  merchants  have  to  pay  for  their  goods  or  close 
up.'" 


202 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOETH 

"I  reckon  that's  all  so,"  returned  the  other.  "And 
of  course  everybody  knows  that  there  never  was  such 
a  thing  as  dishonest  store-keepers.  Merchants  don't 
never  beat  anybody  with  short  weight  and  all  that  ?" 

This  raised  a  laugh  in  which  Deck  joined  as 
heartily  as  anyone.  Even  the  banker  smiled  coldly 
as  he  asked :  "What  did  you  say  your  name  was  ?" 

"Didn't  say;  but  it's  Sam  Warren." 

"Where  is  your  ranch?" 

"Six  miles  north  on  the  Number  One  main." 

"Well,  Mr.  Warren,  I've  been  considering  this 
proposition  and  I've  got  it  figured  out  like  this.  We 
all  want  to  make  what  we  can  in  this  new  country; 
that's  what  we  came  in  for.  This  store  can't  get 
along  without  the  ranchers'  support  and  you  ranchers 
can't  get  along  without  the  store.  We've  all  got  to 
pull  together  and  help  each  other.  I  don't  believe 
that  many  of  the  men  who  come  into  this  Desert  to 
actually  settle  on  and  improve  the  land  are  the  kind 
of  men  who  beat  their  bills.  I  figured  to  run  on  a 
cash  basis  only  until  things  got  started  and  sort  of 
settled  down,  you  see.  I  know  that  you  people  need 
credit  until  you  get  on  your  feet.  From  now  on  you 
come  here — for  whatever  you  actually  need,  you 
understand — and  we'll  carry  you  for  any  reasonable 
amount  until  you  get  something  coming  in.  All  we 
ask  in  return  is  that  you  ranchers  do  as  you  say  and 
stand  by  us  when  you  do  get  on  top." 

At  Jefferson  Worth's  simple  and  quietly  spoken 
words  a  hush  fell  over  the  group  of  men.  Abe  Lee 
looked  at  his  companion  in  amazement.  Sam  Warren 


203 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

turned  from  the  stranger  to  the  store-keeper  and  back 
to  the  stranger.  The  man  behind  the  counter  was 
smiling  broadly  as  if  enjoying  the  situation. 

When  no  one  could  find  a  word  with  which  to 
break  the  silence,  Deck  Jordan  said:  "Gentlemen, 
this  is  Mr.  Jefferson  Worth,  the  owner  of  this  store. 
George!"  he  called  to  a  passing  clerk,  "give  Sam 
whatever  he  wants  as  soon  as  you  can  get  around  to  it, 
and  charge  it." 

At  this  such  a  yell  went  up  from  the  bystanders 
that  a  crowd  from  the  outside  rushed  in,  and  as  the 
word  passed  and  others  voiced  their  approval  as 
loudly,  the  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company  in  his  rooms  across  the  street 
thought  that  another  fight  was  on. 

The  Manager  was  not  far  wrong  in  his  conclusion. 


204 


CHAPTER  XIII. 
BARBARA'S  CALL  TO  HER  FRIENDS. 

|  HAT  night,  long  after  Kingston  was  still  and 
the  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company  was  fast  asleep,  Jeffer 
son  Worth  and  Abe  Lee  talked  in  the  little  tent  that, 
from  the  lantern  within,  glowed  in  the  darkness, 
seemingly  the  one  spot  of  light  under  the  desert  stars. 

The  next  morning  the  surveyor  left  town  on  the 
stage,  but  not  as  he  had  planned.  Abe  knew  now 
where  he  was  going  and  what  he  was  going  to  do. 
He  was  bound  for  the  city  by  the  sea  and  he  carried 
in  his  pocket  several  letters  of  introduction,  written 
by  his  employer  and  addressed  to  different  firms 
engaged  in  manufacturing  and  selling  things  elec 
trical.  And  more  than  this,  Abe  would  see  Barbara. 

Jefferson  Worth  did  not  breakfast  with  Abe  that 
morning  nor  did  he  see  him  off  on  the  stage,  but  a 
few  minutes  after  the  surveyor  had  left  town  his 
employer  passed  down  the  street  in  the  direction  of 
the  store. 

As  Mr.  Worth  drew  near  his  place  of  business  he 
saw,  posed  just  without  the  door,  one  whom  the  most 
casual  of  observing  strangers  would  have  supposed 
instantly  to  be  the  proprietor  of  the  store,  the  owner 
of  the  building — if  not,  indeed,  the  proprietor  and 
owner  of  all  Kingston  and  many  miles  of  country 
round  about. 

205 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

The  portly  figure,  clad  in  a  business  suit  of  gray, 
with  a  vast,  full-rounded  expanse  of  white  vest, 
expressed  in  every  curve  opulent  wealth  and  lordly 
generosity.  The  clean-shaven  face,  fat  and  florid, 
beamed  upon  the  world  from  above  the  clerical 
severity  of  a  black  tie  with  truly  paternal  benev 
olence;  while  the  massive  head  was  not  in  reality 
crowned  but  was  covered  by  a  hat  such  as  command 
ing  generals  always  wear  in  pictures.  The  pose  of 
the  figure,  the  lift  of  the  countenance,  the  kingly 
mien  of  eye  and  brow  made  it  impossible  to  mistake 
his  majesty.  In  comparison  with  this  august  per 
sonage,  the  figure  and  air  of  Jefferson  Worth  were 
pitifully  inadequate. 

The  great  one  welcomed  the  financier  at  the  latter's 
own  door  with  an  air  of  royal  hospitality.  Extend 
ing  his  hand  as  if  he  stepped  down  only  one  step 
from  his  throne  and  speaking  in  a  tone  that  was 
meant  to  confer  marked  distinction  upon  the  humble 
recipient  of  his  favor,  he  said:  "Mr.  Worth,  I  am 
delighted,  more  delighted  than  I  can  express,  to 
welcome  you  to  our  city.  It  is  a  great  day  for  this 
country — a  great  day!"  He  wrung  the  financier's 
timid  hand  with  two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  of 
emotional  energy.  "Mr.  Greenfield  and  I,  with  our 
friends  and  associates  in  the  East,  and  Mr.  Burk 
and  Holmes  here  in  the  field,  are  doing  what  we  can 
for  these  people,  but  there  is  a  great  work  here  yet 
for  men  like  you — men  of  some  means  and  financial 
ability,  who  will  get  behind  the  smaller  business 
interests  and  build  them  up  on  a  solid  foundation, 
My  heart  rejoiced  for  the  country,  sir,  when  I  heard 

206 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

this  morning  that  you  had  purchased  this  establish 
ment.  Deck  is  a  good  honest  fellow,  you  know, 
but "  An  expansive  smile  of  confidential  under 
standing  finished  this  sentence,  and  the  words — "My 
name  is  Blanton,  Mr.  Worth — Horace  P.  Blanton" — 
seemed  to  settle  at  once  any  doubt  as  to  the  position 
and  authority  of  the  speaker. 

Jefferson  Worth  did  not  explain  that  he  had  owned 
the  store  from  the  beginning  and  that  Deck  Jordan 
was  no  more  than  his  very  capable  agent.  Indeed 
Mr.  Worth  said  nothing  at  all.  He  even  appeared 
to  shrink  with  becoming  modesty  though  there  was 
the  faintest  hint  of  a  twinkle  in  the  corners  of  his 
eyes — a  hint  so  faint  that  Horace  P.  Blanton,  from 
his  great  height,  overlooked  it. 

The  big  man,  in  a  lower  tone  of  confidential 
familiarity,  asked:  "Have  you  heard  from  Green 
field  lately?" 

"No." 

"I  wrote  Jim  some  time  ago  that  he  would  have 
to  come  out  here  himself.  There  are  some  conditions 
developing  here  that  should  have  his  personal  atten 
tion,  and  I'll  be  blessed  if  I'll  stand  seeing  him 
neglect  them!  I'm  a  western  man  myself,  Worth; 
and  you  know  we  do  things  in  this  country." 

"You  are  interested  in  The  King's  Basin  Com 
pany  ?" 

The  answer  was  given  in  a  tone  of  tolerant  surprise 
that  any  one  should  think  he  would  toy  with  a  thing 
of  such  trifling  importance.  "Me  ?  Oh  no ! — that  is, 
not  directly  you  understand.  But  I  am  deeply  inter 
ested  in  the  development  of  the  country.  Let  me 

207 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

show  you  a  little  of  what  we  are  doing  here.  It's 
amazing  how  the  world  outside  fails  utterly  to  grasp 
the  magnitude  of  the  enterprise.  Even  the  news 
papers  are  criminally  negligent.  Quite  recently  I  had 
occasion  to  tell  my  good  friend,  the  editor  of  the 
Times,  that  if  he  didn't  give  us  something  like  a  fair 
showing  I  would  see  to  it  personally  that  the  bulk 
of  our  business  went  to  San  Felipe.  It's  a  burning 
shame  the  way  they  have  persistently  ignored  us." 

Mr.  Worth  made  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  escape 
but  the  white  vest  blocked  his  move.  Pointing  to  a 
half-finished  building  on  the  nearest  corner,  the  great 
one  explained  in  the  tone  of  a  personal  conductor: 
"That  is  our  new  hotel — one  of  the  finest  buildings 
in  the  southwest.  The  young  man  who  will  run  it 
for  us  is  personally  superintending  the  construction. 
Bright  boy,  too.  You  must  let  me  introduce  you  to 
him." 

Jefferson  Worth,  gazing  at  the  modest  building 
under  construction,  murmured :  "You  are  interested, 
you  say?" 

"Oh  no;  that  is — only  in  a  way,  you  understand. 
I  have  a  hand  in  most  of  these  enterprises." 

"This  town  needs  a  good  hotel,"  said  Mr.  Worth, 
mildly. 

"That  building  farther  down — the  one  where  the 
foundation  is  just  completed — is  our  Opera  House. 
It  is  being  erected  by  one  of  the  big  Coast  syndicates 
and  will  be  a  magnificent  hall  of  amusement  and 
entertainment  as  well  as  a  place  for  public  gatherings 
of  all  kinds.  I  have  been  in  close  personal  touch 
with  the  men  in  charge  of  the  enterprise  and  they 

208 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

understand  that  we  will  tolerate  nothing  that  is  not 
first  class." 

"The  people  need  such  a  building,"  was  the  quiet 
comment. 

"In  the  block  opposite  our  bank  will  be  located. 
They  will  be  working  on  the  vault  in  another  two 
weeks.  While  the  building  is  well  under  way,  as  you 
see,  the  organization  of  the  institution  is  not  yet 
made  public.  Only  a  few  of  us  on  the  inside,  you 
understand,  know  who  is  back  of  the  enterprise." 

"I  see,"  said  Jefferson  Worth.  "A  bank  is  a  good 
thing  for  the  country." 

Pointing  up  the  street,  the  great  one  in  the  white 
vest  continued:  "There  you  see  the  office  of  our 
paper — The  King's  Basin  Messenger.  The  machinery 
is  being  installed  now.  I'm  mighty  proud  of  the 
young  man  who  is  starting  that  work.  He  will  be  a 
credit  to  us  I  promise  you.  Directly  opposite  is  The 
King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  building 
with  the  offices  of  the  Company.  You  must  let  me 
introduce  you  to  the  manager,  Mr.  Burk,  and  to 
Holmes,  the  engineer.  Come,  we  will  go  over  there 
now."  He  started  forward  with  perspiring  energy, 
but  Jefferson  Worth,  seizing  the  opportunity,  gained 
the  doorway  of  the  store  and  vanished. 

For  two  weeks  Mr.  Worth  seemed  to  devote  his 
time  wholly  to  his  store.  Though  Deck  Jordan  still 
continued  the  active  management,  it  was  generally 
understood  that  Mr.  Worth,  having  but  recently 
purchased  the  establishment,  retained  Deck  until,  as 
it  was  generally  expressed,  he  got  the  run  of  the 
business.  At  an  old  desk  in  a  cubby-hole  of  an  office 

209 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

roughly  partitioned  off  in  one  corner  of  the  room, 
the  financier  spent  nearly  every  hour  of  the  day 
apparently  poring  over  his  accounts. 

Here  the  Manager  from  across  the  street  found 
him  when  he  called  to  explain  to  Mr.  Worth  the 
advantage  of  an  alliance  between  the  store  and  the 
Company.  Mr.  Burk  did  not  stay  long,  hut  upon 
his  return  to  his  office  wrote  a  long,  confidential 
letter  to  his  superiors.  The  thoughtful  Manager's 
letters  to  his  superiors  were  always  confidential. 

Willard  Holmes  also  called  to  pay  his  respects; 
to  inquire  whether  Miss  Worth  was  well;  and — as 
Holmes  put  it  to  himself  when  he  was  again  safely 
outside  the  building — to  turn  himself  inside  out  for 
the  critical  inspection  of  the  man  who  hid  behind 
that  gray  mask. 

So  far  as  the  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin  Land 
and  Irrigation  Company  observed,  Jefferson  Worth, 
beside  buying  the  store,  made  only  one  small  invest 
ment.  He  purchased  from  the  Company  a  small 
tract  of  land  just  inside  the  limits  of  the  townsite. 
Then  almost  before  Mr.  Burk  knew  that  it  was  before 
them,  the  town  council  passed  an  ordinance  granting 
permission  to  the  Worth  Electric  Company  to  place 
their  poles  and  to  stretch  wires  on  the  streets  of  the 
town,  and  the  first  issue  of  The  King's  Basin  Messen 
ger  announced  with  a  great  flourish  of  trumpets  that 
Kingston  was  to  have  lights. 

The  article  explained  that  Mr.  Abe  Lee,  the  well 
known  engineer,  formerly  with  the  K.  B.  L.  and  I. 
Company,  would  have  charge  of  the  construction 
work  and  would  push  it  with  his  usual  energy.  For 

210 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BARBAEA  WOETH 

some  time  Mr.  Lee  had  been  in  the  city  arranging 
for  material,  which  would  be  shipped  immediately. 
Mr.  Worth  had  stated  to  the  Messenger  that  Mr.  Lee 
would  return  to  Kingston  in  a  day  or  two  and  would 
break  ground  for  the  power  plant  at  once.  The  Mes 
senger  also  gave  an  interesting  history  of  Jefferson 
Worth's  successful  career  from  farm-boy  to  financier 
with  an  appreciation  of  his  character  and  congratu 
lated  the  citizens  that  a  man  of  such  financial 
strength  and  genius  had  come  to  invest  the  fruit  of 
his  toil  in  the  new  country. 

Mr.  Burk  read  the  Messenger's  article  thought 
fully.  Then  Mr.  Burk  wrote  another  confidential 
letter  to  his  superiors. 

Over  this  enterprise  of  Jefferson  Worth,  as  set 
forth  in  the  Messenger,  the  citizens  were  enthusiastic. 
Horace  P.  Blanton  was  more  than  enthusiastic. 
Meeting  Mr.  Burk  as  the  latter  was  returning  to  his 
office  after  dinner  he  blocked  the  Manager's  way  with 
his  white  vest  and,  wiping  the  sweat  of  honest 
endeavor  from  his  brow,  delivered  himself.  "Well, 
sir ;  we  landed  it.  Biggest  thing  that  ever  happened 
to  Kingston.  Double  our  population  in  three  months. 
I  told  my  friend  Worth  that  they  would  have  to 
come  through  with  that  franchise  whether  they 
wanted  to  or  not,  and  by  George!  we  landed  it. 
There  was  nothing  else  to  do." 

The  Manager  thoughtfully  flicked  the  ashes  from 
his  cigar.  "And  what  is  this  that  you  have  landed  2" 

"What!  haven't  you  heard?  Have  you  seen  the 
Messenger  ?"  He  drew  a  paper  from  his  pocket  and* 


211 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

placed  a  finger  on  the  headlines:  "Electric  Lights 
for  Kingston." 

The  Manager  shifted  his  cigar  to  the  corner  of  his 
mouth  and,  casting  his  head  in  the  opposite  direc 
tion,  surveyed  the  excited  Horace  P.  as  an  artist 
might  view  an  interesting  picture.  "So  you  are 
interested  in  the  Worth  Electric  Company  ?" 

"Oh  no ;  that  is,  not  exactly,  you  know.  My  name 
will  not  appear  in  the  company.  But  Jeff  and  I  are 
very  warm  friends,  you  understand,  and  for  the  sake 
of  Kingston  I  am  bound  to  take  an  interest  in  his 
enterprise." 

At  this  the  thoughtful  Mr.  Burk  became  suddenly 
confidential.  Tapping  his  companion  impressively 
on  the  arm  and  speaking  in  a  low  tone  of  vast  import, 
he  said:  "Blanton,  be  careful;  be  careful.  Don't 
get  into  Worth's  schemes  too  deeply.  A  man  of  your 
standing  and  influence,  you  know,  can't  afford  to  play 
into  the  hands  of  a  four-flusher." 

Then  the  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company  slipped  easily  away  before  the 
other  could  reply. 

Three  minutes  later  the  man  in  the  big  white  vest 
overtook  the  Company's  chief  engineer  in  the  door 
way  of  the  restaurant.  "Good  morning,  Holmes; 
good  morning."  The  simple  greeting  seemed  to 
come  from  a  great  heart  that  was  fairly  staggering 
under  a  burden  of  other  people's  woes. 

As  the  boy  placed  their  dinners  before  them, 
Horace  P.  Blanton,  shaking  his  massive  head,  mur 
mured  sadly:  "It's  a  burning  shame,  Holmes;  a 
burning  shame." 

212 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"The  coffee,  you  mean?"  queried  the  engineer, 
digging  up  a  spoonful  of  sediment  from  the  bottom 
of  his  heavy  cup  and  inspecting  it  critically.  "It 
looks  shameful,  all  right ;  and  it  may  have  been  over 
heated  some  time  in  past  ages,  but  the  temperature 
doesn't  appear  to  be  above  normal  to-day." 

The  big  man  did  not  smile;  his  burden  was  too 
heavy.  "I  mean,"  he  explained,  "the  way  these  four- 
flushers  come  in  here  and  attempt  to  work  their  graft 
right  under  our  eyes.  Did  you  hear  about  this  man 
Worth  getting  that  franchise  out  of  the  council  ?  I 
did  my  level  best,  but  what's  the  use.  It's  all  as 
plain  as  day  but  you  can't  hammer  an  idea  into  the 
boneheads  that  run  this  town.  I  had  a  little  talk 
with  Burk  over  the  matter  this  morning.  He  agrees 
with  me  perfectly.  We've  got  to  take  hold  of  this 
thing,  Mr.  Holmes,  or  the  town  will  go  to  the  dogs. 
I  wish  Greenfield  would  come  on." 

The  engineer  agreed  heartily  that  it  might  be  well 
to  take  hold  of  something.  But  what?  That  was 
the  rub — what  ?  He  gently  intimated  that  if  Horace 
P.  Blanton  could  not  find  a  way  to  avert  the  awful 
calamity  that  threatened  the  public,  the  public  was 
in  a  bad  way.  Clearly  it  was  up  to  Horace  P.  to 
save  Kingston. 

The  dinner  over  the  men  separated  quickly:  the 
man  in  the  white  vest  to  carry  the  burden  of  Kings 
ton's  future  on  his  fat  shoulders,  and  the  engineer 
to  inspect  the  work  at  Dry  River  Heading. 

The  evening  of  the  third  day  after  Abe  Lee's 
return  to  Kingston  the  surveyor  and  his  employer 
were  in  Mr.  Worth's  office.  The  work  of  excavation 

213 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

for  the  foundation  of  the  power  plant  would  begin 
in  the  morning,  and  Mr.  Worth  had  planned  to  leave 
town  the  following  morning  for  a  week's  business 
trip  to  the  city. 

The  two  men  were  interrupted  in  their  conversa 
tion  by  a  loud  familiar  voice  on  the  store  side  of  the 
board  partition. 

"Busy,  be  they  ?  Well,  f what  the  divil  should  they 
be  but  busy?  Do  ye  suppose  I  thought  they  was 
a-playin'  dominoes?'7 

Abe  grinned  at  his  employer.     They  both  listened. 

Deck  Jordan's  voice  said:  "But  you  better  not 
go  in  now,  boys.  They  will  be  through  in  a  little 
while." 

"Go  in  ?  Who  the  hell's  talkin'  av  goin'  in  ?  Do 
ye  think,  ye  danged  counter-hopper,  that  we've  no 
manners  at  all  ?  For  a  sup  o'  wather  I'd  go  over  to 
ye  wid  me  two  hands !" 

And  another  softer  voice  drawled:  "Run  along 
Deck.  Me  an'  my  pardner  promises  not  to  turn 
violent  or  break  into  the  sanctuary.  We'll  just  camp 
here  peaceful  'til  the  meetin's  over." 

Abe  chuckled.  "I  knew  they  would  be  along  as 
soon  as  they  heard  the  news."  He  lifted  his  voice. 
"Come  in,  boys." 

Instantly  Barbara's  "uncles"  appeared.  "We  axes 
yer  pardon,  Sorr,  for  not  comin'  before  to  pay  our 
respects,  but  we  only  heard  yestherday  that  ye  was 
in  the  counthry.  Ye  see,  afther  we  finished  at  the 
river  we  was  transferred  over  on  Number  Three  at 
the  tail  end  av  nowhere  an'  knew  nothin'  at  all  'til 


214 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOKTH 

someone  brung  into  camp  the  paper  that  towld  about 
yer  doin's.  An'  how  is  our  little  girl  ?" 

"Very  well,"  said  Mr.  Worth.  "She  told  me  to 
be  sure  and  remember  her  to  you." 

"I  saw  her  the  other  day,"  said  Abe.  "She  sent 
you  both  her  love." 

"Well,  now,  fwhat  do  ye  think  av  that?  Tex,  ye 
danged  owld  sand  rat,  ut's  proud  av  yersilf  ye  should 
be  to  be  the  uncle  av  sich  a  darlin'.  An'  tell  us 
now,  Sorr,  fwhat's  this  I  hear  about  yer  buildin'  a 
power  plant  for  electric  lights,  or  street  cars,  or  some- 
thin'  ?  We  thought  that  the  lad  here  left  the  danged 
counthry  for  good,  an'  sarves  thim  danged  yellow-legs 
that  boss  the  Company  right  for  not  knowin'  a  man 
whin  they  see  wan." 

"We  begin  work  in  the  morning.  Abe  is  in 
charge." 

"Hurroo!"  exclaimed  the  delighted  Irishman. 
"An'  ut's  men  ye'll  be  wantin'  av  course;  wan  to 
handle  the  greasers,  which  is  cake  to  me,  an'  wan  to 
boss  the  mule  skinners,  which  is  pie  for  Tex.  I'm 
thinkin'  the  Company  will  be  short  handed  at  Num 
ber  Three  in  the  mornin'." 

"I  have  been  holding  these  places  open  for  you," 
Abe  laughed.  "If  I  could  get  hold  of  Pablo,  now,  I 
would  be  all  right.  Barbara  said  to  be  sure  and  get 
him  too.  He's  still  at  Dry  River  Heading,  I  hear." 

As  the  two  were  leaving  Texas  Joe  said  to  Abe: 
"Are  you  plumb  certain  Pablo  is  at  the  Heading  ?" 

"That's  what  one  of  the  crew  told  me  to-day." 

"Well,  then  I  reckon  he'll  be  along  prontc." 


215 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  next  morning  when  Abe  went  to  the  site  of 
the  work  the  first  man  he  saw  was  Barbara's  friend, 
Pablo.  The  Mexican  greeted  the  surveyor  with  a 
show  of  white  teeth. 

"Did  you  come  to  work  ?"  asked  Abe. 

"Si,  Senor.  Senor  Texas  he  come  las'  night  with 
two  horses.  He  say  Senor  Abe  want  you  quick, 
Pablo.  La  Senorita  say  you  come.  So  I  am  come 
pronto,  like  he  say." 

"Texas  Joe  went  for  you  last  night  ?"  repeated 
Abe. 

"Si,  Senor.  If  you  want  me  come — if  La  Senorita 
want  me  come — Senor  Tex  he  go  tell  me  come.  I 
come.  It  is  no  much  ride  for  vaqueros  like  Senor 
Tex  and  me." 

"But  you  have  your  job  with  the  Company  ?" 

The  Mexican  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  his  teeth 
showed.  "Senor  Worth  and  Senores  Lee  and  Tex 
and  Pat  good  company  for  Pablo.  Beside,  is  there 
not  La  Senorita  ?  She  was  good  to  me  when  I  was 
sick  with  no  one  to  help.  Do  not  we  all — Senores 
Lee  and  Tex  and  Pat,  and  Senor  Worth  and  me — 
do  not  we  all  work  for  La  Senorita  in  La  Palma  de 
la  Mano  de  Dios  ?  Is  it  not  so  ?  Beside  I  think 
sometime  La  Senorita  come — then  I  would  be  near. 
In  the  Company  there  is  no  Senorita." 


216 


CHAPTEK  XIV. 
MUCH  CONFUSION  AND  HAPPY  EXCITEMENT. 

|S  the  trying  months  of  the  semi-tropical  sum 
mer  approached,  the  great  Desert,  so  awful 
in  its  fierce  desolation,  so  pregnant  with  the 
life  it  was  still  so  reluctant  to  yield,  gathered  all  its 
dreadful  forces  to  withstand  the  inflowing  streams 
of  human  energy.  In  the  fierce  winds  that  rushed 
through  the  mountain  passes  and  swept  across  the 
hot  plains  like  a  torrid  furnace  blast ;  in  the  blinding, 
stinging,  choking,  smothering  dust  that  moved  in 
golden  clouds  from  rim  to  rim  of  the  Basin;  in  the 
blazing,  scorching  strength  of  the  sun;  in  the  hard, 
hot  sky,  without  shred  or  raveling  of  cloud;  in  the 
creeping,  silent,  poison  life  of  insect  and  reptile;  in 
the  maddening  dryness  of  the  thirsty  vegetation;  in 
the  weird,  beautiful  falseness  of  the  ever-changing 
mirage,  the  spirit  of  the  Desert  issued  its  silent 
challenge. 

It  was  not  the  majestic  challenge  of  the  mountains 
with  their  unsealed  heights  of  peak  and  dome  and 
impassable  barriers  of  rugged  crag  and  sheer  cliff. 
It  was  not  the  glad  challenge  of  the  untamed  wilder 
ness  with  its  myriad  formed  life  of  tree  and  plant 
and  glen  and  stream.  It  was  not  the  noble  challenge 
of  the  wide-sweeping,  pathless  plains;  nor  the  wild 
challenge  of  the  restless,  storm-driven  sea.  It  was 

217 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

the  silent,  sinister,  menacing  threat  of  a  desolation 
that  had  conquered  by  cruel  waiting  and  that  lay  in 
wait  still  to  conquer. 

With  grim  determination,  nervous  energy,  endur 
ing  strength  and  a  dogged  tenacity  of  purpose,  the 
invading  flood  of  humanity,  irresistibly  driven  by 
that  master  passion,  Good  Business,  matched  its 
strength  against  that  of  the  Desert  in  the  season  of 
its  greatest  power. 

Steadily  mile  by  mile,  acre  by  acre,  and  at  times 
almost  foot  by  foot,  the  pioneers  wrested  their  future 
farms  and  homes  from  the  dreadful  forces  that  had 
held  them  for  ages.  Steadily,  with  the  inflowing 
stream  of  life  from  the  world  beyond  the  Basin's 
rim,  the  area  of  improved  lands  about  Kingston 
extended  and  the  work  in  the  Company's  town  went 
on.  By  midsummer  many  acres  of  alfalfa,  with 
Egyptian  corn  and  other  grains,  showed  broad  fields 
of  living  green  cut  into  the  dull,  dun  plain  of  the 
Desert  and  laced  with  silver  threads  of  water  shining 
in  the  sun. 

Save  for  occasional  brief  business  trips  to  the  city, 
Jefferson  Worth  did  not  leave  Kingston.  In  the  most 
trying  of  those  grilling  days  of  heat  and  dust,  when 
a  man's  skin  felt  like  cracking  parchment  and  his 
eyes  burned  in  their  sockets  and  it  seemed  as  though 
every  particle  of  moisture  in  his  body  was  sucked  up 
by  the  dry,  scorching  air,  Barbara's  father  gave  no 
sign  of  discomfort.  He  accepted  the  most  nerve- 
racking  situation  with  the  even-tempered  calmness 
of  one  who  had  foreseen  it  and  to  whom  it  was  but 
a  trivial  incident,  inevitable  to  his  far-reaching  plans. 

218 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

When  others — their  tempers  tried  to  the  breaking 
point — cursed  with  dry,  high-pitched,  querulous 
curses  the  heat,  the  land,  the  sun,  the  dust,  the  Com 
pany  and  their  fellow-sufferers,  Jefferson  Worth's 
cool,  even  tones  and  unruffled  spirit  helped  them  to 
a  needed  self-control  and  gave  them  a  new  and 
stronger  grip  on  things.  And  many  a  baffled,  dis 
couraged  and  well-nigh  beaten  settler,  ready  to  give 
up,  found  in  the  man  whose  gray,  mask-like  face 
seemed  so  incapable  of  expression,  fresh  inspiration 
and  new  courage ;  while  the  store  continued  its  policy 
of  helping  the  worthy,  hard-pressed  ranchers  with 
necessary  material  assistance. 

And  so  it  was  that  while  James  Greenfield  and 
his  fellow-capitalists  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company  were  taking  their  much  needed 
vacations  and  seeking  relaxation  and  rest  from  busi 
ness  cares  at  their  seaside  and  mountain  retreats,  the 
desert  pioneers  were  coming  more  and  more  to  Jeffer 
son  Worth  for  advice  and  counsel,  for  strength  and 
courage  and  help  to  go  on  with  the  work.  By  fall 
the  financier's  position  in  the  life  of  the  new  country 
seemed  to  be  securely  won.  Perhaps  only  Jefferson 
Worth  himself,  alone  behind  his  gray  mask,  knew 
the  real  value  of  his  apparent  victory. 

The  Company's  thoughtful  Manager  went  out — 
as  the  pioneers  had  come  to  say  of  those  who  left  the 
Basin — for  over  a  month,  and  for  the  rest  of  the 
summer  spent  only  a  part  of  his  time  in  Kingston. 
But  the  Company's  chief  engineer  refused  to  leave 
even  for  a  week.  To  a  pressing  invitation  from 
Greenfield  to  join  him  on  his  vacation,  Holmes 

219 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

answered  that  lie  could  not  get  away.  All  through 
the  June  rise  of  the  river,  while  the  settlers,  ignorant 
of  the  danger  that  threatened  them  through  the  Good 
Business  policy  of  the  Company,  were  risking  every 
thing  that  Capital  might  gain  its  greater  profits,  the 
engineer  lived  in  his  camp  at  the  intake.  Day  and 
night,  as  he  watched  the  swelling  yellow  torrent  that 
threw  its  weight  against  his  work,  he  remembered 
the  words  of  the  desert-bred  surveyor:  "When  the 
Gila  and  the  Little  Colorado  go  on  the  warpath  and 
come  down  on  top  of  a  high  Colorado  flood,  you'll 
catch  hell."  It  had  come  in  the  past,  Abe  had 
declared,  and  it  would  come  again. 

But  the  flood  waters  of  the  Gila  and  the  Little 
Colorado  did  not  come  down  on  top  of  the  larger 
river  that  year  and  the  promoter's  estimate  work 
stood.  When  the  danger  was  past  and  the  engineer 
was  free  again  to  make  Kingston  his  headquarters, 
his  acquaintance  with  Jefferson  Worth  grew  into 
something  like  friendship.  It  became,  indeed,  an 
established  custom  for  Mr.  Worth,  Abe  Lee  and  the 
chief  engineer  of  the  Company  to  sit  at  the  same 
table  in  the  shack  restaurant  and,  during  their  meals 
of  canned  stuff,  to  talk  over  the  work  that  held  them 
from  the  comforts  and  pleasures  of  civilization. 

But  little  work  toward  extending  the  Company 
system  could  be  undertaken  during  the  hot  summer 
months.  It  was  difficult  for  Holmes  to  hold  even 
enough  men  to  maintain  that  which  was  already  in 
operation.  But  Jefferson  Worth  did  not  fare  so 
badly.  Abe  Lee  was  steadfast,  of  course,  while 
Texas,  Pat  and  Pablo  would,  as  the  Irishman  said, 

220 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

"have  fried  thimsilves  on  the  coals  av  hell"  before 
they  would  quit  their  job.  Were  there  not  letters 
every  week  from  Barbara  with  messages  to  the  sur 
veyor  and  his  three  helpers  ?  Pablo  said  truly  that 
"there  was  no  Senorita  in  the  Company."  So 
through  Abe's  leadership,  Texas  Joe's  diplomacy, 
Pat's  wisdom  and  Pablo's  influence  with  his  country 
men,  the  Worth  enterprises  did  not  suffer  for  lack 
of  laborers  but  went  steadily  ahead. 

In  Kingston  the  different  buildings  for  the  power 
plant  and  lighting  system  were  nearly  completed  and 
several  cottages  were  under  construction  on  lots 
owned  by  Jefferson  Worth,  while  men  and  teams 
were  busy  excavating  and  hauling  materials  for  a 
large  ice  plant.  In  Frontera,  a  little  town  that 
"just  happened"  to  grow  from  a  supply  camp  in  the 
southern  end  of  the  Basin,  a  hotel  and  a  bank  build 
ing  were  being  erected,  while  between  the  two  com 
munities  poles  for  a  telephone  system  were  being 
placed. 

Thus  far  very  few  women  had  come  into  the 
desert.  When  the  torrid  summer  was  past,  the  first 
crops  on  the  new  ranches  harvested  and  more  com 
fortable  homes  prepared,  they  would  come  with 
the  children  to  join  the  men-folks.  Until  then  the 
new  country  would  continue  a  man's  country — the 
poorest  possible  kind  of  a  country,  the  men  them 
selves  declared. 

Therefore  when,  late  in  September,  The  King's 
Basin  Messenger,  with  an  extraordinary  blare  of 
trumpets,  announced  the  birth  of  a  child  and  that  the 
first-born  of  the  new  country  was  a  boy,  the  news  was 

221 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

received  with  the  greatest  excitement.  In  Kingston,  in 
Frontera,  at  grading  camps  and  ranches,  as  the  word 
was  passed,  there  were  wild  and  joyous  celebrations. 
Such  a  crowd  of  male  visitors  closed  in  on  the  humble 
tent  home  to  beg  for  a  look  at  the  little  pink  stranger 
that  the  matter-of-fact  pioneer  parents  were  heard  to 
express  the  wish  that  they  themselves  had  never  been 
born.  Had  the  baby  been  forced  to  carry  through 
life  all  the  names  that  were  suggested  he  would 
undoubtedly  have  echoed  the  parents'  wish  at  an 
early  age. 

Then  came  the  terrible  word  to  Kingston,  brought 
by  Texas  Joe,  that  the  baby  was  ill.  Tex,  returning 
to  town  from  a  trip  to  Frontera,  had  turned  a  mile 
aside  to  bring  the  latest  news  of  the  baby.  It  was 
early  evening  and  the  light  yet  lingered  in  the  sky 
back  of  No  Man's  Mountains,  when  the  citizens, 
relaxing  after  the  heat  of  the  day  and  the  evening 
meal,  looked  up  to  see  him  coming,  riding  like  a  mad 
man,  his  horse  white  with  foam. 

Jefferson  Worth,  with  Abe  and  Holmes  coming 
from  the  restaurant,  had  paused  a  moment  in  front 
of  the  store  before  separating  when  Texas  leaped 
from  his  staggering  mount.  One  thought  flashed  into 
the  mind  of  each:  aThe  intake!  The  river!" 
Holmes  went  white  under  his  tan;  Abe's  jaws  came 
together  with  a  click ;  Jefferson  Worth's  slim  fingers 
caressed  his  chin. 

As  the  word  passed  quickly  through  the  town,  the 
crowd  that  followed  Mr.  Worth  and  Texas  Joe  into 
the  store  grew  until  it  over-flowed  the  building  and 


222 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

filled  the  street.  Over  all  there  was  a  solemn  hush, 
save  for  low-spoken  words  of  inquiry,  or  explanation, 
and  of  advice.  What  to  do  was  the  question.  What 
could  they  do  ?  There  was  no  doctor  nearer  than 
Rubio  City  and  men  who  pioneer  in  a  desert  land 
are  not  men  experienced  with  sickness. 

On  a  high  shelf  in  one  back  corner  of  the  store 
there  was  a  small  dust-covered  stock  of  assorted 
patent  medicines.  Desperately  they  pulled  the  bottles 
down  and  studied  the  labels  and  directions,  but  only 
to  their  further  confusion  and  doubt.  At  last,  his 
pockets  laden  with  everything  that  seemed  to  promise 
a  possible  relief,  Texas  Joe  set  out  on  a  fresh  horse, 
the  first  one  handy,  to  be  followed  later  by  a  spring 
wagon  drawn  by  four  fast  broncos  and  carrying  four 
women.  The  entire  female  population  of  Kingston 
had  been  mustered  by  Abe  Lee,  whom  the  ladies 
declared  then  and  there  to  be  the  only  man  of  sense 
in  all  The  King's  Basin. 

For  the  first  evening  since  his  arrival  Jefferson 
Worth  left  his  office  in  the  store  to  mingle  with  the 
restless  crowds  on  the  street  that,  in  ever-changing 
knots  and  groups,  discussed  in  fearful  voice  this 
public  calamity.  No  one  dreamed  of  retiring.  No 
one  had  thoughts  for  sleep,  nor  indeed  for  anything 
save  the  little  sufferer  in  the  tent  house  ten  miles 
out  on  the  Desert.  They  smoked  and  talked  and 
swore  softly  in  hushed  tones  and  waited  the  return 
of  Texas  Joe. 

It  was  after  midnight  when  he  came  again.  Before 
he  could  dismount,  the  crowd  of  silent  men  hemmed 


223 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

him  in.  From  the  saddle  the  old  plainsman  looked 
down  into  their  eager  solemn  faces  and  that  slow 
smile  broke  over  his  sun-blackened  features. 

"Boys,"  he  drawled,  "I'm  sure  proud  to  bring 
you-all  the  unanimous  verdict  of  the  female  relief 
expedition  sent  out  by  our  illustrious  fellow-citizen, 
Abe  Lee.  The  kid's  better  and  is  headed  straight  for 
good  health  and  six  or  eight  square  meals  a  day." 

When  the  joyous  chorus  of  yells  that  would  have 
startled  a  coyote  two  miles  away  subsided,  Tex  dis 
mounted  and  approached  Jefferson  Worth.  "Mr. 
Worth,  them  women  commanded  me  also  to  return 
to  you  with  their  compliments  and  gratitude  the 
various  and  sundry  bottles  with  which  same  my 
clothes  is  full.  One  of  them  angels  of  mercy,  it 
seems,  went  to  the  scene  of  action  loaded  with  a  flask 
of  castor  oil." 

Just  before  retiring  that  night  Mr.  Worth  said  to 
his  superintendent:  "Abe,  I'm  going  out  in  the 
morning.  You  had  better  push  the  work  on  that 
largest  cottage  as  fast  as  possible.  I'll  ship  in  an 
outfit  of  furniture  and  things  as  soon  as  I  get  to  the 
city.  Let  me  know  when  the  house  is  finished  and 
the  goods  arrive.  You  can  stack  the  furniture  up 
on  the  porches  or  anywhere  until  I  get  back.  The 
hot  weather  is  about  over  and  the  hotel  will  open 
up  next  week." 

"All  right,  sir,"  the  surveyor  answered  quietly 
and  made  no  comment  on  this  unexpected  move  of 
his  employer,  though  his  nerves  tingled  at  the  evi 
dent  purpose  of  his  instructions.  Abe  Lee  could  not 
know  how  the  events  of  the  evening  had  awakened 

224 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

in  Jefferson  Worth  memories  of  another  baby  in  the 
desert — memories  that  stirred  the  child-hungry  heart 
of  the  lonely  man  and  drove  him  to  his  daughter 
without  an  hour's  delay. 

Did  Abe  Lee  push  the  work  on  the  house  ?  Did  he  ? 
Every  man  in  Jefferson  Worth's  employ,  who  could 
find  a  place  to  lay  his  hand  on  the  building,  was  put 
on  the  job.  By  the  time  the  house  was  finished  the 
furniture  had  arrived. 

It  was  quitting  time  and  Pablo,  who  with  four 
Mexican  laborers  had  been  at  work  grading  the  yard 
and  removing  the  rubbish  that  had  accumulated  inci 
dent  to  building,  dismissed  his  helpers.  The  sur 
veyor  was  gloomily  contemplating  the  pile  of  boxes, 
bales  and  crates  on  the  front  porch.  Evidently  there 
was  something  not  to  the  surveyor's  liking. 

"Senor  Lee." 

The  surveyor  turned  sharply  to  face  the  Mexican, 
whose  dark  features  were  glowing  with  pleasure. 
"Well?" 

"Pardon,  but  Senor  Lee  seems  not  pleased.  Is  not 
the  work  well  done  ?" 

"The  work  is  all  right,  Pablo.  You  have  done 
well.  It  is  not  that.  I  was  wishing  I  had  nerve 
enough  to  tackle  another  job." 

The  Mexican  smiled.  "Oh,  Senor,  you  make  fun. 
What  can  not  El  Senor  do  ?  He  can  do  everything." 

"There  is  a  job  here  all  right  I  don't  sabe,  Pablo." 
Abe  turned  again  to  the  pile  of  household  goods. 

"Si  Senor,  me  sabe.  It  is  that  La  Senorita  come 
pronto  an'  Senor  Lee  would  have  the  house  what  you 
call  ready." 

225 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

Abe  started  at  the  tone  of  quiet  conviction.  "How 
the  devil  do  you  know  that  La  Senorita  is  coming  ?" 
he  asked  sharply. 

The  answer  came  with  a  flash  of  white  teeth :  "For 
what  else  does  El  Senor  hurry  so  the  house?  For 
what  else  does  he  all  time  cry — Tronto!  pronto!' 
and  go  not  much  to  the  other  work  but  stay  all  time 
here  ?  And  is  there  not  all  this — "  He  waved  his 
hand  gracefully  to  indicate  the  household  goods. 
"For  who  should  it  be  that  Senor  Lee  is  hurry  so  ? 
When  Texas  Joe  come  say — 'Senor  Worth  is  here/ 
I  think  quick  some  time  La  Senorita  come.  I  work 
for  Senor  Worth,  as  La  Senorita  send  word,  that  I 
may  be  near.  All  time  I  work  I  say — 'It  is  for  La 
Senorita.'  Pretty  quick  now  she  come  and  with 
Senor  Lee  will  be  happy  to  live  in  the  house  he 
make." 

A  deeper  red  than  the  desert  color  stained  the  sur 
veyor's  thin  cheeks  as  he  said:  "You're  a  good 
hombre,  Pablo,  but  you're  away  off  on  part  of  what 
you  say.  I  reckon  you're  right  enough  that  Miss 
Worth  is  coming,  but  she  will  live  here  with  her 
father  just  as  they  did  in  Kubio  City.  And  listen, 
Pablo.  You  must  never  say  to  anyone  what  you 
have  said  to  me.  You  sabe,  Pablo  ?  I  am  with  La 
Senorita  as  you  are,  and  Tex  and  Pat ;  sabe  ?" 

"Si,  Senor;  forgive  me;  I  am  sorry.  But  some 
time  it  will  be  if  El  Senor  is  patient." 

The  surveyor,  annoyed  at  the  Mexican's  talk,  but 
unwilling,  because  of  the  spirit  that  prompted  the 
words,  to  speak  sharply,  sought  to  dismiss  the  matter 
by  changing  the  subject.  He  explained  to  Pablo  how 

226 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

he  was  wishing  that  he  could  unpack  the  furniture 
and  have  the  house  all  ready  when  Mr.  Worth  and 
Barbara  arrived. 

"Why  not  ?"  asked  the  Mexican. 

Abe  shook  his  head.  "It's  out  of  my  line.  I  don't 
sabe  the  job,  Pablo." 

"Maybe  so  Tex  and  Pat,  they  would  sabe." 

"By  George,  I  believe  Pat  would.  Texas  wouldn't 
be  any  better  than  I,  but  Pat  ought  to  know  some 
thing  about  such  things.  You  go  tell  them  I  want 
them  at  the  office  to-night.  Pat  was  at  the  power 
house  to-day  and  Texas  will  be  coming  in  from  the 
line  early." 

"Si,  Senor.  And  Senor  Lee!  La  Senorita  will 
want  a  horse." 

"Hell,  I  forgot  that!" 

Pablo  smiled.  "I  know  where  is  good  one — a 
beautiful  horse,  Senor.  Long  time  I  watch  him  and 
think  some  day  he  be  for  La  Senorita  when  she  come. 
The  man  will  sell  for  enough.  Shall  I  go  to-morrow  ?" 

"Yes,  get  him.  Tell  the  man  it  is  for  me  and 
that  I  will  pay.  No" — he  corrected  himself — "tell 
him  it  is  for  Senor  Worth  and  that  he  will  pay. 
Sabe  ?  You  must  not  speak  of  me." 

"Si,  Senor;  it  shall  be  as  you  say.  To-morrow 
night  I  return." 

That  evening  at  the  office  in  the  rear  of  the  store 
Abe  laid  the  situation  before  Pat  and  Texas  Joe. 
Could  the  three  undertake  to  have  the  furniture  un 
packed  and  the  house  properly  settled?  The  hotel 
had  been  opened  to  receive  guests,  of  course,  but 

Texas  Joe  shook  his  head  solemnly.    "I  pass,  Abe. 

227 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

There  ain't  no  use  in  my  affirmin'  that  I  knows  any 
thing  about  such  undertakings.  Household  furnishin' 
such  as  is  proper  in  a  case  like  this  is  a  long  way  off 
my  range." 

But  the  Irishman  waxed  indignant.  "Sich  ignor 
ance  as  ye  two  do  be  showin'  is  heathenish,"  he 
declared.  "I  suppose  now  ye  wud  be  for  puttin'  the 
cook  stove  in  the  parlor  an'  settin'  up  the  piany  in 
the  young  lady's  budwar." 

The  strange  word  caught  the  attention  of  Texas 
instantly.  "An'  what  might  that  be,  pard?"  he 
drawled.  "What's  a  budwar  ?" 

Pat  snorted.  "Budwar,  ye  ignorant  owld  limb,  is 
polite  for  the  girl's  bedroom,  which  in  civilization  ?s 
not  discussed  by  thim  as  has  manners." 

Such  overwhelming  evidence  of  the  Irishman's 
familiarity  with  the  best  social  customs  was  not  to 
be  rejected.  The  morning  stage  carried  a  telegram 
to  be  sent  from  Deep  Well  to  Jefferson  Worth,  and 
all  that  day  the  three  toiled  under  command  of  Pat. 
When  the  evening  stage  brought  a  message  from  Mr. 
Worth  saying  that  he  and  Barbara  would  arrive  the 
following  evening,  they  decided  that  a  night  shift 
was  necessary  and  worked  until  nearly  morning, 
redoubling  their  efforts  the  following  day. 

When  the  dusty  old  stage  with  its  four  half-broken 
horses  pulled  into  Kingston  that  night,  three  tired 
and  anxious,  but  joyful,  desert  men  occupied  the 
front  rank  of  the  waiting  crowd  before  the  new  hotel. 

With  all  the  grace  of  generous  curves  and  pon 
derous  dignity,  Horace  P.  Blanton  was  first  to  alight. 
When  he  turned  his  broad  back  to  the  "common 

228 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

herd"  and,  with  an  indescribable  air  of  proprietor 
ship,  assisted  Miss  Worth  to  the  ground,  three  dark 
ened  faces  scowled  with  disapproval  and  three  smoth 
ered  oaths  expressed  deep  disgust. 

The  excited  citizens  behind  the  three  crowded 
closer.  Even  Ynez,  climbing  down  from  the  stage, 
was  received  with  another  cheer  by  the  delighted 
men.  The  irrepressible  Horace  P.,  quick  to  recog 
nize  the  spirit  of  the  company  and  ever  ready  to  do 
more  than  his  part,  burst  into  an  eloquent  address 
of  welcome  in  behalf  of  the  entire  population  of 
The  King's  Basin.  But  the  ceremony  was  interrupted 
and  the  imposing  personage  in  the  white  vest  was 
thrust  roughly  aside  while  Barbara,  with  glad  eyes 
and  hands  outstretched,  greeted  the  rude  disturbers 
of  the  great  man's  dignity. 

"Texas!  Pat!  Mr.  Lee!  Oh,  I'm  glad!  I  have 
been  hoping  all  day  that  you  would  be  here  to  meet 
me.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  would  never  get  here. 
It  has  been  the  longest  day  of  my  life."  Which,  con 
sidering  that  the  impressive  attentions  of  Horace  P. 
Blanton  had  been  continuous  since  the  moment  when 
he  had  forced  an  introduction  from  Mr.  Worth  on 
the  train  that  morning,  was  rather  hard  on  his 
majesty. 

But  much  experience  in  similar  situations  had 
made  Horace  P.  Blanton  immune  to  such  thrusts. 
Even  while  Barbara  was  speaking  he  regained  his 
place  at  her  side.  With  his  voice  and  manner  of  a 
"personal  conductor" — before  either  of  the  three 
could  speak — he  followed  her  words  with:  "Ah, 
Miss  Worth,  I  see  you  already  know  some  of  our 

229 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAEA  WOETH 

men.  Texas,  Pat  and  Abe  here  are  three  of  the  best 
fellows  we  have.  They — " 

Again  he  was  interrupted.  The  young  woman 
turned  easily  aside  to  Abe,  and  Horace  P.  found 
himself  very  close  to  and  facing  the  tall  plainsman 
and  the  heavy  shouldered  Irish  boss. 

"Excuse  me,  Colonel,"  drawled  Texas  in  tones  so 
soft  that  no  one  in  the  noisy  crowd  could  hear ;  "but 
the  welfare  of  the  citizens  of  this  here  community, 
as  well  as  the  safety  of  the  country,  demands  your 
immediate  presence  up  the  street." 

Without  hesitation  the  lordly  one  exclaimed :  "Ah, 
thank  you,  Tex.  Miss  Worth  will  excuse  me  I'm 
sure.  Please  explain  my  absence  to  her."  Then 
before  their  startled  eyes  he  faded  away — if  the 
vanishing  of  such  a  bulk  can  be  so  described. 

A  few  minutes  after  the  passing  of  Horace  P. 
Blanton,  Tex  and  Pat  also  disappeared,  for  it  was 
part  of  the  carefully  arranged  plot  that  Barbara's 
"uncles"  were  to  see  to  the  disposal  of  the  girl's 
trunks  while  she  was  at  supper  at  the  hotel  with  her 
father  and  Abe. 

At  the  table  Barbara  was  all  eagerness  in  her 
desire  to  know  everything  about  the  work;  and  the 
surveyor,  in  answering  her  questions,  found  himself 
drawn  out  of  the  dumbness  that  usually  beset  him 
in  such  situations. 

"And  our  house?"  asked  the  girl.  "When  can  I 
begin  settling?  You  see  I  brought  Ynez  with  me. 
Can  we  begin  in  the  morning,  Abe  ?  And  could  you 
spare  Pat  and  Tex  to  help  us?" 

Abe  glanced  at  his  employer.     "If  vou  wouM  like 

230 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WOKTH 

to  see  the  house  we  can  look  at  it  this  evening  after 
supper." 

"Can  we?    Can  we  go,  daddy?" 

Jefferson  Worth  met  Abe's  look  with  a  twinkle  in 
the  corner  of  his  eye,  but  he  only  answered  his  eager 
daughter  with  a  calm,  "If  you  like." 

They  found  the  house  with  every  window  bril 
liantly  lighted,  and  on  the  front  porch,  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  wide-open  door,  Texas  and  Pat  standing 
to  welcome  them.  From  one  room  to  another  Bar 
bara  ran  in  laughing  delight,  followed  by  the  three, 
who  were  perspiring  in  an  agony  of  suspense  while 
Jefferson  Worth  looked  on.  The  cook  stove  was  not 
in  the  parlor,  nor  was  the  piano — out  of  place.  In 
the  proper  room  Barbara  even  found  her  trunks. 
There  was  a  supply  of  provisions  in  the  pantry  and 
kindlings  even  ready  by  the  kitchen  stove  for  the 
morning  fire.  If  there  were  little  irregularities  here 
and  there,  Barbara,  with  graceful  tact,  did  not  see 
them  but,  to  the  delight  of  the  three  men,  declared 
again  and  again  that  no  woman  could  have  done  it 
better. 

The  climax  came  when  she  said  that  unless  her 
father  insisted  she  would  not  even  return  to  the  hotel 
that  evening.  Could  not  someone  go  for  the  hand 
luggage  and  Ynez  ?  Breathless  the  three  waited,  and 
when  Mr.  Worth  said  he  saw  no  reason  why  they 
should  leave  their  own  home  for  a  hotel  Tex  and 
Pat  could  hold  themselves  no  longer  but  made  a  wild 
run  for  the  door. 

When  Barbara's  "uncles"  had  returned  with  the 
Indian  woman  and  the  grips,  Pat  stood  in  the  center 

231 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

of  the  living  room  and  looked  curiously  about — an 
expression  of  wonder  upon  his  battle-scarred  Irish 
countenance.  "Now  don't  that  bate  the  divil !  Tell 
me" — he  faced  the  girl  with  mock  severity — "fwhat's 
this  ye've  been  doin'  already?" 

"Doing?"  exclaimed  Barbara,  "I  haven't  been 
doing  anything,  Uncle  Pat." 

"Aw,  go  on,  don't  be  tellin'  me  that.  Aven  Uncle 
Tex  here  can  see  that  ye've  changed  ivery  blissid 
thing  in  the  place.  'Tis  not  the  same,  at  all,  an' 
afther  us  a-workin'  our  fingers  to  the  bone  to  fix  ut 
up.  'Tis  quare.  I  know  now  that  Tex  hung  that 
curtain  there.  Ye  could  have  heard  him  swearin' 
a  mile  away,  but  ut's  not  that  same  curtain  at  all,  at 
all.  'Tis  mighty  quare." 

For  an  hour  or  more  Barbara,  at  the  piano,  sang 
for  them  the  simple  songs  they  loved,  while  many  a 
tired  horseman,  riding  past  on  his  way  to  his  lonely 
desert  shack  or  to  some  rough  camp  on  the  works, 
paused  to  listen  to  the  sweet  voice  and  to  dream 
perhaps  of  the  time  that  was  to  come  when  such 
sounds  would  no  longer  seem  strange  on  the  Desert. 

When  the  hour  came  for  Texas  and  Pat  and  Abe 
to  go,  and  Barbara  with  shining  eyes  tried  again  to 
express  her  gratitude  while  insisting  that  they  must 
always  come  to  her  home  as  to  their  own,  the  three 
felt  that  indeed  they  had  their  reward.  And  when 
later  the  girl  kissed  her  father  good  night  Jefferson 
Worth  also  knew  in  his  lonely  heart  that  he  had  done 
well. 


232 


CHAPTER  XV. 
BARBARA  COMES  INTO  HER  OWN. 

IEFFERSON  WORTH  and  his  daughter  had 
just  finished  their  first  breakfast  in  the  new 
home  when  their  Indian  servant  woman 
entered  the  room. 

"What  is  it,  Ynez?"  asked  Barbara,  seeing  that 
the  woman  wished  to  speak. 

Ynez's  black  eyes  were  shining  and  her  voice  was 
eager  as  she  answered:  "There  is  someone  without 
waiting  for  La  Senorita." 

"Someone  waiting  outside  for  me,  Ynez?" 

"Who  is  it  ?"  asked  Mr.  Worth. 

"It  is  Pablo  Garcia,  Senor,  and  he  say  please  ask 
La  Senorita  to  come.  If  La  Senorita  will  go  only 
to  the  door  she  can  see." 

With  an  expression  of  excited  interest  Barbara, 
followed  by  her  father,  went  out  on  the  porch.  In 
front  of  the  house  stood  Pablo  holding  a  beautiful 
saddle  horse  fully  equipped  and  ready  for  a  rider. 
The  Mexican's  dark  face  shone  with  the  pride  and 
triumph  of  the  moment  toward  which  he  had  looked 
forward  for  months.  The  horse,  too,  as  if  sensing 
the  importance  of  the  occasion,  pawed  the  earth  with 
his  dainty  hoofs,  arched  his  neck  and  tossed  his 
head — proudly  impatient. 

Uttering    low    exclamations    and    little    cries    of 

233 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

delight  the  girl  left  the  porch  and  ran  forward, 
greeting  Pablo  and  moving  about  the  horse,  admir 
ing  the  animal  from  every  point  of  view.  "What  a 
beauty!  He  is  perfect,  Pablo;  perfect!  Where  did 
you  find  him  ?  Is  he  yours  ?  What's  his  name  ?" 
Her  questions  came  tumbling  from  her  lips  in  such 
eager  bursts  that  Pablo  answered  only  the  last. 

"He  is  yours,  Senorita.     His  name  El  Capitan." 

"Mine?"  Barbara  turned  to  her  father,  who  ex 
plained,  Abe  having  told  him  the  night  before  of 
the  purchase. 

When  her  father  finished,  the  delighted  girl 
announced  that  she  "simply  couldn't  wait"  but  must 
go  for  a  ride  immediately.  Running  into  the  house 
she  returned  a  few  minutes  later  in  her  riding  dress 
and,  mounting  with — "I'll  be  back  for  dinner, 
daddy,"  and  "Adios,  Pablo!" — rode  away  toward  the 
open  country,  while  the  Mexican  and  the  banker 
watched  her  out  of  sight. 

By  the  time  they  had  passed  the  last  of  the  tent 
houses  in  the  town  Barbara  and  El  Capitan  were 
friends.  There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  a  worthy 
horse  appreciates  a  worthy  rider  and  the  girl,  accus 
tomed  to  riding  since  childhood,  certainly  appreci 
ated  her  mount. 

"Oh,  you  beauty!"  she  cried,  leaning  forward  in 
the  saddle  to  pat  the  shining  neck.  "Oh,  you 
beauty!" 

As  though  to  return  the  compliment  and  express 
his  pleasure  at  finding  such  an  agreeable  companion, 
El  Capitan  turned  his  delicate  pointed  ears  forward, 
arched  his  neck,  and,  stepping  as  on  a  velvet  carpet, 

234 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

sprang  lightly  to  the  other  side  of  the  road  in  sheer 
overflow  of  good  spirits  and  confidence  in  his  rider, 
while  the  girl,  at  his  play,  laughed  aloud. 

But  Barbara  had  eyes  and  thoughts  for  more  than 
her  horse  that  morning.  It  was  her  first  day  in  "her 
Desert"  and  there  was  much  for  her  to  see. 
Through  her  father  she  had  kept  in  close  touch  with 
every  phase  of  the  work  of  reclaiming  The  King's 
Basin  and  had  often  begged  him  to  take  her  with  him 
into  the  new  country.  Now  at  last  her  wish  was 
realized.  She  was  where  she  could  see  with  her  own 
eyes  the  Seer's  dream — the  Seer's  and  her  own — 
coming  true. 

On  either  hand  as  she  rode,  stretching  away  until 
all  fixed  lines  and  objects  were  lost  in  the  shifting 
mirage  and  many-colored  lights  of  the  desert,  the 
dun  plain  with  its  thin  growth  of  thirsty  vegetation 
was  broken  by  the  green  cultivated  fields,  newly 
leveled  acres,  buildings  and  stacks  of  the  ranches, 
with  canals,  ditches  and  ponds  filled  with  water  that 
reflected  the  colors  of  the  morning.  Everywhere,  in 
what  had  been  a  land  of  death,  life  was  stirring.  In 
one  field  beside  the  road  a  herd  of  soft-eyed  cattle, 
knee-deep  in  rich  alfalfa,  lifted  their  heads  to  greet 
her.  In  another  a  band  of  horses  and  colts  scam 
pered  along  with  her  as  far  as  their  fence  would  per 
mit,  as  if  good-naturedly  seeking  her  further 
acquaintance.  Everywhere  men  with  their  teams 
were  at  work  in  the  fields  newly  won  from  the  desert. 
At  one  house  a  woman  was  hanging  her  weekly  wash 
on  the  line,  while  a  group  of  children  played  in  the 
yard.  As  the  girl  passed  the  woman  waved  her  hand 

235 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

and  the  children  shouted  a  greeting.  And  a  little 
farther  on  a  meadow-lark,  perched  on  a  fence-post, 
filled  the  world  with  liquid  music. 

The  wine-like  atmosphere,  the  glorious  light,  the 
odor  of  the  fields  and  the  strength  and  beauty  of  the 
life  new-horn  in  the  desert,  with  the  spirit  and  free 
dom  of  the  animal  she  rode,  all  appealed  with  almost 
painful  intensity  to  the  girl  who  was  herself  so  richly 
alive.  She  felt  her  close  kinship  with  it  all  and 
answered  to  it  all  out  of  the  fullness  of  her  own 
young  woman's  strength.  She  wanted  to  cry  aloud 
with  the  joy  and  gladness  of  the  victory  over  barren 
ness  and  desolation.  It  was  her  Desert  that  was 
yielding  itself  to  the  strong  ones;  for  them  it  had 
waited — waited  through  the  ages,  and  at  last  they 
had  come. 

Busy  with  her  thoughts,  Barbara  rode  on  until  she 
had  passed  out  of  the  settled  district  of  which  Kings 
ton  was  the  center  and  found  herself  in  the  desert. 
Save  for  the  lightly  marked  trail  she  was  following 
and  the  thin  line  of  her  father's  telephone  poles  that 
led  southward  to  Frontera,  she  saw  no  sign  of  a 
human  being.  Checking  her  horse  and  turning,  she 
looked  back.  A  tiny  spot  of  thin  color — the  red  of 
brick,  the  yellow  of  new  lumber  and  the  white  of 
tents — marked  Kingston.  The  ranches  about  the 
desert  town  were  scattered  spots  of  green  scarcely 
seen  at  that  distance.  All  the  rest,  from  the  distant 
snow-capped  sentinels  of  the  Pass  in  the  north  to 
Lone  Mountain  in  the  south  and  from  the  purple 
mountain  wall  on  the  west  to  the  sky-line  of  the  Mesa 


236 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

on  the  east,  was  the  same  dun  plain   as   she  had 
always  known  it. 

Barbara  caught  her  breath.  Seen  near  at  hand  the 
work  accomplished  had  seemed  so  great,  so  brave; 
seen  from  even  so  short  a  distance  as  she  had  come, 
it  looked  so  pitifully  small,  so  helpless.  The  desert 
was  so  huge,  so  masterful,  so  dominating  in  its  silent 
grandeur,  in  its  awful  loneliness.  All  her  life  Bar 
bara  had  seen  the  desert  from  her  home  in  Rubio 
City.  Many,  many  times  she  had  ridden  into  it 
and  back  a  day's  ride.  But  never  had  she  felt  the 
dreadful  spirit  of  the  land  as  she  felt  it  now,  alone  in 
the  still,  lonely  heart  of  it.  She  was  afraid  with  an 
unreasoning  fear. 

El  Capitan,  too,  seemed  to  share  her  uneasiness. 
Tossing  his  head,  tugging  at  the  bridle  reins  and  paw 
ing  the  ground  and  starting  nervously,  he  turned  this 
way  and  that,  signifying  his  desire  to  be  away.  But 
just  as  Barbara,  on  the  point  of  yielding  to  his 
impatience  and  her  own  feeling  of  fear,  lifted  the 
reins  to  turn  toward  Kingston  again,  he  threw  up 
his  head  with  a  loud  neigh  and  with  ears  pointed 
looked  away  toward  the  south,  standing  rigid  and 
motionless  as  a  horse  of  stone.  A  cloud  of  dust  rising 
from  the  trail  told  her  that  someone  was  approach 
ing.  Instantly  the  girl's  feeling  of  fear  vanished. 
She  laughed  aloud. 

"Company  is  coming,  Capitan,"  she  said.  "Shall 
we  wait  until  we  see  who  it  is  ?  We  can  easily  run 
away  if  we  don't  like  his  looks." 

As  she  finished  speaking,  the  light  wind  that  was 
just  strong  enough  to  carry  the  dust  with  the  coming 

237 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

rider  shifted  for  a  moment  and  revealed  the  horse 
man  clearly.  Barbara,  not  wishing  to  appear  as 
though  waiting,  started  ahead  toward  Kingston, 
while  the  stranger,  evidently  catching  sight  of  a 
horse  and  rider  on  the  road  ahead  and  desiring  com 
pany,  quickened  his  pace. 

Barbara  glanced  over  her  shoulder.  "Shall  we 
run,  Capitan?  No,  we'll  not  run  yet.  But  be 
ready."  Again  she  glanced  quickly  back.  "It's  no 
one  we  know,  Capitan.  Be  ready." 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  stranger. 

When  she  heard  the  sound  of  his  horse's  feet  on 
the  sand  Barbara  turned  again,  this  time  openly. 
Then  she  laughed.  "I  don't  think  we'll  run  this 
time,  Capitan." 

A  moment  later  the  horseman  had  overtaken  her, 

"Good  morning,  Mr.  Holmes.     How  do  you  do  ?" 

"Miss  Worth!" 

Had  the  engineer  checked  his  horse  so  suddenly  a 
few  months  before  he  would  undoubtedly  have  gone 
over  the  animal's  head.  El  Capitan  also  stopped, 
while  the  man  and  the  girl  sat  looking  at  each  other, 
Barbara  smiling  at  the  man's  surprise. 

"Is  it  really  you  ?"  asked  Holmes  at  last,  "or  is  it 
some  new  trick  of  this  confounded  desert?"  He 
rubbed  his  eyes.  "I  never  saw  a  mirage  like  this 
before  and  I  don't  think  the  heat  has  affected  my 
brain."  He  moved  his  horse  closer.  "Could  you 
shake  hands  ?" 

Barbara  held  out  her  hand.  "I  assure  you  that  I 
am  very  substantial,"  she  laughed,  "and  I  am  here  to 
stay,  too." 

238 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

"That's  great!  By  George!  it's  good  to  see  you," 
cried  Holmes  so  heartily  that  the  girl  turned  away 
her  face  and  caused  her  horse  to  move  ahead. 

The  engineer's  horse,  with  a  word  from  his  rider, 
kept  his  place  by  El  Capitan's  side. 

"It's  very  nice  of  you  to  say  that  but  I  didn't  see 
you  anywhere  around  last  night  when  the  stage 
arrived.  Abe  and  Pat  and  Texas  were  there  and  this 
morning  even  Pablo  came  the  first  thing  after  break 
fast." 

Willard  Holmes  could  not  altogether  hide  his  pleas 
ure  at  her  hinted  rebuke.  So  she  had  thought  of 
him — had  looked  for  him — had  missed  him.  "In 
deed,  you  must  forgive  me.  I  did  not  know  you  were 
coming,"  he  said  and  explained  how  his  work  took 
him  away  from  Kingston  much  of  the  time. 

"Of  course,  under  those  circumstances,  I  must 
forgive  you,"  agreed  Barbara,  then  added  seriously: 
"I  think  I  could  forgive  anyone  who  belonged  to  this 
desert  work,  anything,  except  one." 

"And  that  ?"  He  was  watching  her  face.  "What 
is  it  that  you  could  not  forgive  ?" 

She  returned  his  look  steadily.  "Don't  you 
know  ?" 

He  drew  a  little  back  and  she  wondered  at  some 
thing  in  his  voice  and  manner  as  he  answered :  "Yes, 
I  know.  You  could  never  forgive  one  for  being 
untrue  to  his  work — for  putting  anything  before  the 
work  itself." 

"Yes,"  she  returned,  "that  is  it.  I  could  never 
forgive  one  who  did  that." 

"But  how  would  you  know  ?     How  could  you 

239 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

judge  ?"  he  asked  almost  roughly.  "Perhaps  the  very 
one  whom  you  would  call  false  to  the  work  would,  in 
reality,  be  doing  the  best  thing  for  the  work.  I  have 
noticed  that,  after  all,  those  who  have  the  loftiest 
ideals  and  the  highest  visions  of  man's  duty  to  man 
and  all  that  are  seldom  the  ones  who  accomplish 
much  of  the  actual  work  of  the  world.  Look  here, 
honestly  now:  how  many  of  the  people  who  are 
reclaiming  this  desert — I  mean  all  of  us — laborers, 
business  men,  ranchers,  everybody  who  has  come  in 
here  to  do  this  work — how  many  of  them  do  you 
think  see  a  single  thing  beyond  the  dollars  they  have 
hoped  to  make  on  the  venture?  Whether  it's  the 
high  wage  paid  by  the  Company,  the  big  profits  of 
the  business  man  or  the  heavier  crop  of  the  rancher, 
it  amounts  to  the  same.  And  yet  you  would  insist 
that  they  must  not*  be  governed  by  this  desire  for 
gain.  So  far  as  I  can  see,  it  is  this  same  desire  for 
gain  that  has  driven  men  into  doing  every  really 
great  thing  that  has  ever  been  done.  Look  carefully 
into  every  great  enterprise  that  is  of  value  to  the 
world  and  you  will  find  at  the  beginning  of  it  some 
one  reaching  for  a  dollar  or  its  equivalent.  Your 
father,  for  instance — " 

Barbara  threw  out  her  hand  protestingly.  "Please 
don't,  Mr.  Holmes.  I  know  that  what  you  say  is 
every  bit  true.  Father  and  I  have  gone  over  it  so 
many  times.  And  yet  I  know,  I  know  that  what  I 
feel  is  true  also.  Oh,  dear!  what  a  muddle  it  is, 
isn't  it  ?  It  seems  so  wrong  to  spend  one's  life  work 
ing  for  nothing  but  money.  And  yet  all  the  really 
good  work  in  the  world  is  done  by  those  who  don't 

240 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

work  to  do  good  at  all  but  for  what  they  get  out  of  it. 
I  suppose  now  that  you  stayed  in  the  Desert  all  this 
past  summer  and  worked  so  hard  without  any  vaca 
tion  at  all  just  for  your  salary." 

"How  did  you  know  that  I  took  no  vacation  ?" 

"Father  told  me.  You  seem  to  have  made  quite 
an  impression  on  my  father.  He  has  told  me  a  great 
deal  about  you.  But  I  want  to  know — did  you  stay 
in  the  desert  for  money  ?" 

Holmes  wondered  if  she  knew  the  danger  that 
threatened  the  settlers  because  of  the  unsubstantial 
character  of  the  Company's  structures.  "Perhaps," 
he  said,  "it  was  to  save  my  professional  reputation. 
That  would  amount  to  the  same  thing,  wouldn't  it  ?" 

Barbara  laughed.  "I  don't  think  that  your  taking 
a  vacation  would  have  lost  you  your  reputation. 
That  won't  do,  Mr.  Chief  Engineer."  For  some 
reason  Barbara  seemed  highly  pleased  at  the  turn  the 
conversation  had  taken.  :.  i ..-.. 

The  man  thought  of  those  anxious  days  and  nights 
at  the  intake,  when  the  safety  of  the  success  of  the 
whole  King's  Basin  project  hung  on  the  whim  of  an 
uncertain  river,  but  he  did  not  explain  to  Barbara 
nor  did  he  tell  her  that  a  vacation  would  have  made 
no  difference  in  his  salary. 

"I'll  tell  you  why  you  stayed  with  the  work  in  the 
Desert  this  summer,  Mr.  Holmes,"  she  said,  and  in 
her  voice  was  a  note  of  pleased  triumph. 

"Why  ?"  he  asked. 

"Because  you  are  learning  the  language  of  the 
country." 

For  an  instant  he  was  puzzled.     Then  he  remein- 

241 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WOETH 

bered  the  evening  he  had  said  good-by.  "Si,  Senorita. 
I  suppose  one  could  not  help  learning  a  little  in  La 
Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios,  could  he  ?" 

"Not  if  he  had  ancestors/'  came  the  answer. 

Holmes  flushed.  "What  a  snob  I  must  have 
seemed  to  you  that  day,"  he  said  in  deep  disgust  at 
the  recollection  of  his  first  attempt  to  impress  the 
western  girl  with  the  importance  of  his  place  in  life. 

"I  don't  think  snob  is  just  the  word/'  she  an 
swered.  "I  didn't  mind  that  ancestor  business  and 
all  that  one  bit.  In  fact  I  think  I  rather  enjoyed  it. 
You  were  such  a  tenderfoot!  But  there  was  some 
thing  else  I  did  mind.  Did  you  know  that  there  was 
a  time  when  I  hated  you  with  my  whole  heart  ?" 

"Miss  Worth!" 

"It's  so.  I  even  promised  myself  that  I  would 
never  speak  to  you  again — never!  Then  I  came 
after  awhile  to  understand  how  foolish  it  was  of  me 
to  blame  you  and  father  told  me  so  much  of  your 
work  here  this  summer  that  I  became  heartily 
ashamed  of  myself.  I'm  telling  you  now  because, 
you  see,  I  have  come  here  to  stay  and  to  be,  in  a 
way,  a  tiny  little  part  in  this  great  work  you  are 
doing,  and  I  feel  that  I  ought  to  tell  you  so  that  we 
can  start  square  again." 

"But,  Miss  Worth,  what  in  the  world  are  you 
talking  about  ?" 

"I  know  it  was  foolish  of  me  for  you  were  not  at 
all  to  blame.  But  I  couldn't  help  it.  It  is  all  over 
though  and  we  are  square  now — or  will  be  when  you 
have  said  that  you  forgive  me." 


242 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

"But  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  What  on 
earth  did  I  do  ?" 

She  looked  straight  at  him.  "Can't  you  even 
guess  ?" 

"I  haven't  the  ghost  of  an  idea." 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  haven't,"  she  declared,  "even 
if  it  does  make  me  appear  so  foolish.  It  was  because 
the  Seer  was  discharged  and  you  were  put  in  his 
place." 

"But  I—" 

"Oh,  I  know  all  about  it,"  she  interrupted.  "You 
didn't  do  it.  You  were  not  to  blame.  The  Company 
did  it  because  it  was  Good  Business.  I  told  you  it 
was  all  over  now.  But  please,  I  don't  think  we'd 
better  talk  about  it  only  just  for  you  to  say  that  you 
forgive  me.  I  had  to  tell  you  for  that,  you  see." 

Then  the  once  carefully  proper  Willard  Holmes 
did  a  thing  that  would  have  astonished  his  most 
intimate  eastern  friends  beyond  expression.  Rein 
ing  his  horse  close  to  El  Capitan  he  held  out  his  hand 
to  Barbara. 

"Shake,  pard!  You're  the  squarest  girl  I  ever 
knew." 

It  was  no  flimsy,  two-fingered  ceremony,  but  a 
whole-hearted,  whole-handed  grip  that  made  the 
man's  blood  move  more  quickly.  Unconsciously,  as 
he  felt  the  warm  strength  in  the  touch  of  the  girl's 
hand,  he  leaned  toward  her  with  quick  eagerness. 
And  Barbara,  who  was  looking  straight  into  his  face 
with  the  open  frankness  of  one  man  to  another, 
started  and  drew  back  a  little,  turning  her  head 
aside. 

243 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

For  some  distance  they  rode  in  silence,  then  she 
began  questioning  him  about  his  life  in  the  desert 
and  all  the  rest  of  the  way  home  made  him  talk  of  the 
work  so  dear  to  her  heart.  As  he  talked  and  the  girl 
watched  his  strong  bronzed  face  and  listened  to  his 
words,  she  found  something  in  his  voice  and  manner 
that  was  not  there  that  day  when  she  introduced  him 
to  "her  Desert."  There  was  a  self-reliance,  an  en 
thusiasm,  a  purpose  that  was  good  to  hear. 

At  the  door  of  her  new  home  when  he,  pleading 
his  work,  would  not  stay  for  lunch  but  promised  to 
call  in  the  evening,  she  bade  him  "Adios"  in  the  soft 
tongue  of  the  Southland  and  when  he  had  wheeled 
his  horse  and  was  riding  away,  Barbara  turned  on 
the  porch  to  look  after  him.  Watching  the  khaki  clad 
figure  that  was  so  easily  at  home  in  the  saddle  and 
that,  with  the  loping  horse,  seemed  so  much  a  part 
of  the  country,  the  girl  wondered  at  the  change  that 
was  being  wrought  by  the  wild  land  upon  the  man 
from  the  eastern  city. 

"Indeed,"  she  thought,  "he  is  learning  the  lan 
guage  of  the  desert !"  And  she,  too,  was  glad. 

When  Holmes  arrived  at  the  Company  headquar 
ters  the  General  Manager  shifted  his  cigar  to  the 
corner  of  his  mouth  and  cocked  his  head  to  one  side, 
looking  him  over  critically. 

"Buenas  dias,  Senor,"  cried  the  engineer  gaily, 
throwing  his  sombrero,  quirt  and  gloves  on  the  floor 
and  helping  himself  from  the  box  of  cigars  on  the 
desk.  Holmes  was  still  thinking  in  the  language  of 
Barbara's  land. 

"Humph!"  grunted  the  slender  man  at  the  desk, 

244 


THE  wnramra  or  BARBARA  WORTH 

"I  said  'hello'  to  you  when  you  passed  the  office,  also 
I  bowed  my  best  New  York  bow,  but  you  were  too 
engaged  to  see.  Were  you  practicing  your  greaser 
lingo  on  her  ?  I  suppose  she  talks  it  like  a  native." 

"She  talks  a  language  you  would  not  understand, 
my  friend,"  said  Holmes  coolly,  lighting  a  cigar. 

"Probably  not,"  agreed  the  other.  "Who  am  I 
that  I  should  understand  the  words  of  a  being  of 
such  exalted  rank?  The  whole  fool  town  is  crazy 
over  her  already.  I've  heard  nothing  but  Miss  Worth, 
Miss  Worth,  all  morning.  You  would  think  the  hotel 
was  a  ladies'  sewing  circle.  Every  man  on  the  street 
is  wearing  his  Sunday  clothes  and  walks  with  his 
head  twisted  over  his  shoulder  for  fear  he  will  miss 
a  glimpse  of  her.  Horace  P.  Blanton  is  the  man  of 
the  hour.  He  came  in  with  her  last  night  and  is 
arranging  a  public  reception,  talking  like  the  busi 
ness  manager  of  a  Greek  goddess.  And  now  here 
you  go  riding  down  the  street  with  her,  so  interested 
that  you  can't  even  see  me.  Permit  me  to  congratu 
late  you.  You  certainly  have  lost  no  time." 

Holmes  scowled.  "That  fellow  Blanton  is  an 
officious  ass,"  he  growled,  "and  you" — he  checked 
himself. 

"Go  on ;  go  on !"  cried  the  delighted  Burk.  "Don't 
spare  me.  In  the  name  of  the  goddess,  smite !" 

The  engineer  laughed  in  spite  of  himself,  though 
he  spoke  sharply.  "Cut  it  out,  Burk.  I  met  Miss 
Worth  in  Rubio  City  when  I  landed  fresh  from  New 
York.  She's  a  mighty  charming  girl,  whom  you'll 
be  as  glad  as  anybody  to  know.  She  was  riding  over 
in  the  West  District  this  morning  and  I  overtook 

245 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

her  on  my  way  in.     Of  course  we  came  on  together. 
Have  you  heard  from  Uncle  Jim?'' 

The  Manager  dropped  his  bantering  tone  instantly 
and  taking  an  open  letter  from  his  desk,  scanned  it 
thoughtfully  as  he  answered :  "He'll  be  here  Satur 
day.  He's  not  at  all  pleased,  Holmes,  with  my  report 
on  the  Worth  operations.  Our  friend  Jeff's  getting 
altogether  too  strong  a  grip  on  things.  It  beats  all 
the  way  he  hops  into  a  game  and  draws  all  the  high 
cards  before  you  know  he  is  on  the  other  side  of  the 
table." 

The  thoughtful  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin 
Land  and  Irrigation  Company  was  evidently  wor 
ried.  Holmes  made  no  reply. 

With  his  eyes  still  on  the  letter  in  his  hand  Burk 
asked :  aHow  are  you  getting  on  with  the  survey  of 
the  South  Central  District  ?" 

"Black  finished  yesterday.    I  brought  in  the  data." 

"What  do  you  think  of  it  ?" 

"It's  no  good,  Burk.  The  land  is  a  rough  jumble 
of  small  hummocks,  covered  with  a  heavy  growth 
of  greasewood  and  mesquite,  and  practically  all  of  it 
lies  so  high  that  we  could  never  get  the  water  on  it 
at  all." 

Burk  considered.  "Do  you  know  whether  Abe 
Lee  ever  went  over  that  district  ?" 

Holmes  stiffened.  "No,  he  never  worked  in  that 
part  of  the  Basin  at  all,  but  what  the  deuce  has  Lee 
to  do  with  it  ?  Black  is  a  graduate  engineer  and  as 
good  a  man  as  ever  looked  over  a  transit.  If  you 
can't  trust  the  men  I  send  out,  why" — 

"Wow,  wow!"  cried  Burk,  "keep  your  shirt  on, 

246 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

old  man !  I'm  not  making  insinuations  against  your 
pet  surveyor.  I  merely  asked  for  information.  Now 
if  you  please,  turn  your  South  Central  data  over  to 
your  office  force  and  tell  them  to  get  it  in  shape  by 
Saturday  without  fail.  It's  an  order,  my  son. 
Selah!" 


247 


CHAPTEE  XVI. 
JEFFERSON  WORTH'S  OPERATIONS. 

HE  crowd  that  waited  in  front  of  the  new 
hotel  for  the  arrival  of  the  stage,  the  evening 
James  Greenfield  came  to  Kingston,  was 
unusually  large.  The  King's  Basin  Messenger  had  an 
nounced  the  coming  of  the  promoter  and  president  of 
The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  and 
the  pioneers  had  assembled  to  see  the  famous  cap 
italist  whose  power  in  the  money  world  was  making 
possible  the  reclamation  of  the  desert. 

Mr.  Greenfield's  greeting  in  the  lobby,  under  the 
perspiring  efforts  of  Horace  P.  Blanton,  soon 
assumed  the  proportions  of  a  public  reception.  With 
his  Manager  to  introduce  the  prominent  citizens,  and 
Horace  P.,  who  was  never  farther  than  a  yard  from 
the  capitalist's  elbow  to  assist  in  receiving  them,  the 
man  from  New  York  entered  graciously  into  the 
spirit  of  the  occasion.  And  when  the  man  in  the 
white  vest,  intoxicated  by  the  atmosphere  of  great 
ness,  burst  forth  in  a  speech  of  welcome,  setting 
forth  the  wonders  of  The  King's  Basin,  the  mar 
velous  growth  and  future  of  Kingston,  the  greatness 
of  Greenfield  and — quite  incidentally — the  greatness 
of  Horace  P.  Blanton,  all  in  behalf  of  the  people,  the 
Easterner  replied  with  a  few  modest  remarks,  in 
which  he  hinted  at  even  greater  things  to  come,  prom- 

248 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

ising  by  subtle  suggestion  unlimited  wealth  for  all 
who  would  invest  their  money  and  their  lives  in  The 
King's  Basin  project. 

Then  Mr.  Greenfield  slipped  away  with  Willard 
Holmes  to  his  room.  The  friendship  between  the 
engineer's  own  parents  and  his  benefactor  had  been 
lifelong  and  very  close.  It  was  a  story,  years  ago 
forgotten  by  the  world,  of  how  Grace  Winton  had* 
chosen  one  of  the  two  college  chums  and  why  the 
other  had  never  married.  In  the  repeated  business 
failures  of  his  old  schoolmate  and  the  consequent 
loss  of  his  fortune  the  successful  financier  had  proven 
himself  many  times  a  friend  in  need,  and  through 
the  long  illness  of  the  man  who  had  been  successful 
in  winning  the  woman  they  both  loved,  Greenfield, 
with  his  wealth,  had  been  steadfast  in  his  thoughtful 
care.  When  baby  Willard's  mother  died  soon  after 
the  death  of  his  father,  she — knowing  the  heart  of 
the  man  whose  love  for  her  had  kept  him  childless — 
committed  to  him  her  only  child,  and  Greenfield, 
accepting  the  trust,  had  taken  the  boy  into  his  life 
and  heart  as  his  own  son. 

After  the  loss  of  William  Greenfield,  his  only 
brother,  James  Greenfield — whose  power  in  the 
financial  world  was  steadily  increasing — had  no  one 
to  intimately  share  his  success  but  young  Holmes, 
and  when  Willard  had  finished  his  school  and  chosen 
his  profession  the  older  man  used  the  influence  of 
his  own  position  to  give  the  young  engineer  every 
advantage. 

As  the  two  men  faced  each  other  now  after  the 
longest  separation  they  had  ever  known,  the  Gom- 

249 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

pany's  president  studied  his  chief  engineer  with 
interest. 

"Well,  Willard,  my  boy,"  he  said  at  last;  "how 
do  you  like  it  ?  Say,  but  you  are  looking  fine.  You 
always  were  a  handsome  youngster  but  you're — 
you're  improving,  young  man.  I'm  blessed  if  you 
don't  look  like  a  work  of  art  done  in  bronze."  He 
laughed  with  the  pleasure  of  his  own  conceit  and  the 
other  laughed  with  him. 

"Wait  until  this  sun  gets  a  shot  at  you,  Uncle 
Jim." 

"Humph!  I  suppose  you  think  it  will  make  me 
into  some  sort  of  an  hideous  old  idol.  I  don't  pro 
pose  to  stay  long  enough  to  give  it  a  chance,"  he 
added  grimly,  and  as  he  finished  a  shadow  fell  over 
his  face  and  the  laughter  died  out  of  his  voice. 

"What's  the  matter ;  don't  you  like  the  West,  Uncle 
Jim?" 

"I  hate  it,  and  with  good  reason.  Don't  you  get 
too  interested  out  here,  Willard.  We'll  clean  up  a 
nice  little  pile  out  of  this  scheme  and  get  back  home 
where  we  belong.  I  miss  you  like  the  deuce,  boy !" 

The  engineer  started  to  say  something  about  the 
work,  but  Greenfield  held  up  his  hand.  "Not  a  word 
about  business  to-night,  Willard.  We'll  take  that  up 
to-morrow.  Tell  me  where  I  can  get  a  shave  and 
then  we'll  have  dinner  and  after  that  a  quiet  evening 
together." 

Holmes  laughed.  "We  have  a  barber,  all  right, 
Uncle  Jim.  He  landed  with  his  outfit  this  afternoon. 
There  was  no  place  for  him,  and  the  freighter  un 
loaded  him  on  a  vacant  lot  about  a  block  west  of  the 

250 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

hotel.  It's  been  a  long  time  since  most  of  us  have 
seen  a  real  barber  and  the  boys  couldn't  wait.  Trade 
came  with  such  a  rush  that  he  set  up  his  chair  in 
the  street  and  has  been  doing  a  land-office  business 
ever  since.  They  say  he's  all  right,  too,  but  it  looks 
funny." 

Mr.  Greenfield,  his  curiosity  aroused  and  being 
really  in  need  of  a  shave,  sought  out  the  shopless 
barber.  He  was  easily  found,  for  the  crowd  that  had 
gathered  to  witness  the  arrival  of  the  great  financier, 
James  Greenfield,  had  already  drifted  to  the  scene 
of  Kingston's  other  chief  attraction.  Piled  in  a 
vacant  lot  was  the  necessary  furniture  for  a  well- 
equipped  shop,  but  only  the  chair  was  in  use.  A 
goods-box  nearby  held  the  instruments  of  the  craft 
while  a  bucket  of  water,  a  tin  basin,  and  a  supply  of 
towels  completed  the  arrangements.  The  delighted 
crowd  filled  the  air  with  good  natured  chaff  and 
laughter  as  the  customers  compared  notes  and 
attempted  to  express  their  emotion  at  finding  them 
selves  properly  groomed. 

Mr.  Greenfield,  highly  amused  at  the  novel  sight, 
pushed  his  way  well  into  the  circle. 

"Next!"  shouted  the  man  with  the  brush  and 
razors  in  a  voice  that  was  heard  a  block  away. 

Some  joker  shouted :  " Your  turn,  Mr.  Greenfield," 
and  "Greenfield!  Greenfield!"  chimed  the  crowd. 

Amid  yells  of  delight  the  president  of  The  King's 
Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  took  his  place 
in  the  chair. 

As  the  barber  worked  he  talked.  Never  before  in 
all  his  professional  career  had  he  been  so  prominently 

251 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAEBARA  WORTH 

in  the  public  eye.  "Yes  sir,  gents,  I'm  here  to  tell 
you  that  that  there  man,  Jefferson  Worth,  is  a  prince 
— a  prince.  Let  me  tell  you  what  he  done  for  me. 
You  see  things  was  gone  all  to  the  bad.  Looked  like 
every  way  I  turned  I  went  up  against  it  proper,  and 
first  thing  I  knowed  my  furniture  was  piled  out  on 
the  sidewalk  and  Mr.  Sheriff  he  was  a-sellin'  it. 
Well,  sir,  Mr.  Worth  he  happened  to  come  along  just 
as  they  begun  to  ask  for  bids  and  I'm  darned  if  he 
didn't  take  the  whole  works  just  as  if  he  had  done 
nothin'  but  buy  barber  shops  all  his  life.  I  was 
layin'  low  in  the  crowd,  watchin',  you  see;  and  there 
was  somethin'  about  him — the  way  he  stopped  and 
bid  the  stuff  in,  or  somethin',  I  dunno  what — that 
struck  me,  so  I  edged  alongside  and  says,  says  I: 
'Are  you  a  barber  ?'  Whew !  the  minute  he  looked  at 
me  I  seen  my  mistake,  but  he  never  batted  a  eye. 
'Not  yet/  he  says.  'This  is  a  pretty  good  outfit,  ain't 
it?'  'You  bet  it  is,'  says  I.  'It  was  mine  a  few 
minutes  ago.'  An'  then  I  tells  him  how  I  was  up 
against  it  an'  asks  what  he  was  goin'  to  do  with  the 
stuff.  'I'm  goin'  to  ship  it  to  Kingston  in  The  King's 
Basin  country,'  says  he.  'We  need  a  good  barber 
down  there  and  I  figured  that  if  I  got  the  shop  ready 
I  could  find  the  man  to  run  it.  How  would  you  like 
to  tackle  the  job  ?  I'll  send  you  and  your  outfit  to 
Kingston  and  sell  you  your  shop  on  good  time,  too, 

for  just  what  it  cost  me.'  An'  here  I  am Next !" 

Mr.  Greenfield  slipped  from  the  chair  and  silently 
tendered  the  talkative  barber  a  five  dollar  bill.  As 
the  barber  was  counting  out  the  change  the  eastern 
financier  heard  behind  him  murmurs  of  hearty  ap- 

252 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

proval  and  admiration  of  Jefferson  Worth.  The 
barber's  story  had  made  a  deep  impression  and  cer 
tainly  no  one  in  the  crowd  was  more  deeply  impressed 
than  was  the  president  of  The  King's  Basin  Land 
and  Irrigation  Company. 

At  dinner  that  evening  the  boy  with  the  weekly 
edition  of  the  Messenger  came  into  the  dining  room. 
Mr.  Burk,  taking  his  copy,  glanced  once  at  the  first 
page,  folded  it  carefully  and  laid  the  sheet  before 
his  employer  with  the  headlines  of  a  leading  article 
uppermost. 

Mr.  Greenfield  read:  "The  Citizens  Bank  of 
Kingston — Jefferson  Worth  owns  the  building  oppo 
site  the  opera  house  and  has  organized  a  bank." 

Mr.  Greenfield  did  not  need  to  read  further. 

"Who  did  you  say  was  building  the  opera  house 
block  ?"  he  asked  the  Manager. 

"It  is  owned  by  a  syndicate.  The  local  man  in 
charge  sits  at  that  table  in  the  corner" — he  nodded 
toward  a  clean,  solid-looking  young  fellow,  who  was 
enjoying  his  dinner  and  chatting  with  Abe  Lee. 

In  the  lobby,  a  few  minutes  later,  Greenfield  whis 
pered  to  Holmes :  "Introduce  me  to  that  young  man, 
Willard." 

His  order  was  easily  obeyed  and  soon,  in  a  corner, 
the  president  and  his  new  acquaintance  were  chatting 
pleasantly  over  cigars  furnished  by  the  New  Yorker. 

"That  building  of  yours  seems  to  be  a  very  credit 
able  piece  of  work,"  offered  Greenfield.  "The  invest 
ment  ought  to  pay  big  later  on.  But  isn't  it  rather 
heavy  for  the  present  size  of  the  town?" 

The  other  smiled  pleasantly.     "True;  but  you  see 

253 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

we  are  not  building  it  for  a  town  of  this  size,  Mr. 
Greenfield.  We  expect  Kingston  to  grow  rapidly  and 
we  realize  the  importance  of  being  on  the  ground 
first." 

"That's  right,  too,"  returned  Greenfield.  "With 
the  capital  to  do  it  that  is  undoubtedly  the  right  plan. 
I  understand  you  represent  a  Coast  syndicate," 

Again  the  young  man  smiled.  "That  is  the  general 
understanding,  Mr.  Greenfield,  and  until  to-night  I 
have  not  been  at  liberty  to  contradict  it.  I  can  tell 
you  now,  however,  that  the  syndicate  which  is  put 
ting  up  that  building  is  Mr.  Jefferson  Worth." 

Greenfield  was  too  well-schooled  to  give  vent  to  the 
slightest  expression  of  surprise.  His  tone  was  courtesy 
itself  as  he  replied :  "Indeed  ?  Mr.  Worth  seems  to 
be  doing  a  great  deal  for  Kingston." 

Then  the  talk  shifted  easily  into  other  channels 
until  the  president  found  opportunity  to  leave  his 
companion.  Rejoining  his  Manager  and  Holmes, 
Greenfield  requested  Burk's  presence  in  his  room 
and,  once  there,  threw  aside  the  mask  of  politeness, 
making  it  clearly  evident,  in  words  chosen  for  force- 
fulness  rather  than  politeness,  that  he  did  not  approve 
of  the  situation  that  had  developed  under  the 
thoughtful  Manager's  eye. 

"And  now,"  he  finished,  "send  the  proprietor  of 
this  hotel  up  here." 

The  uncomfortable  Burk  obeyed.  When  the  land 
lord  arrived  with  an  anxious  face,  Greenfield  was 
his  courteous,  affable  self  again. 

"Mr.  Wheeler,"  he  said,  "there  is  a  little  business 
proposition  I  wish  to  lay  before  you  while  I  am  here 

254 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTII 

and  I  thought  it  better  to  mention  it  this  evening  so 
that  you  can  have  time  to  think  it  over  and  give  me 
your  answer  before  I  leave.  I  can  see,  of  course,  that 
this  hotel,  building  and  all,  represents  quite  an 
investment  and  that,  for  a  time,  the  returns  will  not 
be  large.  I  don't  know,  of  course,  how  much  capital 
you  have  to  swing  it,  but  I  can  see  that  without  good, 
substantial  backing  the  enterprise  might  not  hold  up, 
which  would  be  very  bad  for  the  reputation  of  the 
town  in  which,  as  you  know,  our  Company  is  so 
heavily  interested.  Now  if  we  could  bring  about 
some  alliance  between  you  and  the  Company  it  would 
be  a  good  thing  all  around,  do  you  see  ?" 

"Yes  sir,  I  see.  This  is  a  big  undertaking  for 
Kingston  as  conditions  are  now,  but  later  it  is  bound 
to  be  a  good  paying  investment  and  we  realize  the 
importance  of  getting  in  on  the  ground  floor.  But  I 
am  not  at  liberty  to  consider  or  make  any  proposition 
whatever  until  I  have  consulted  the  owner — " 

"The  owner?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"I  was  told  that  you  were  the  proprietor.  Your 
name  is  on  the  hotel  stationery." 

"I  have  only  a  very  small  interest.  My  associate 
would  not  permit  his  name  to  be  used  at  all.  I  may 
tell  you,  however,  confidentially,  that  Mr.  Worth 
owns  the  building  and  practically  all  the  hotel  equip 
ment.  You  can  easily  place  your  proposition  before 
him.  Whatever  he  does  I  am  bound  to  accept." 

James  Greenfield  chewed  his  cigar  in  savage 
silence.  Clearly  it  was  time  that  he  visited  his  town. 


255 


THE  WIKNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"Do  you  know  where  Mr.  Worth  is  this  evening  ?" 
he  asked  as  mildly  as  he  could  speak. 

"In  his  office,  I  think." 

"Would  you  be  good  enough  to  send  him  a  message 
that  I  would  like  to  see  him  on  a  matter  of  impor 
tance  ?  I  will  wait  in  my  room." 

"Certainly,  sir." 

When  the  landlord  was  gone  the  president  of  The 
King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  walked 
the  floor,  carefully  reviewing  his  dealings  with  Jeffer 
son  Worth  from  the  beginning.  So  this  was  what  the 
banker  had  "up  his  sleeve"  when  he  declined  to  join 
the  Company! 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  boy  with  Mr.  Worth's 
answer.  Mr.  Worth  would  be  in  his  office  at  the 
store  until  ten  o'clock. 

The  eastern  capitalist  made  his  way  to  the  little 
room  in  the  store  where  Jefferson  Worth  sat  at  his 
battered  old  desk.  "How  do  you  do  ?" 

"Sit  down,"  came  the  colorlesa  greeting  as  the 
western  man  with  one  hand  closed  the  door  and  with 
the  other  motioned  toward  the  chair  at  the  end  of 
the  desk.  Then  seating  himself  again  in  his  own 
chair  he  waited  behind  his  mask. 

"Well,  Mr.  Worth,  I  see  you  decided  to  come  into 
the  Basin  after  all." 

"I  concluded  to  make  a  few  small  investments," 
came  the  exact  reply. 

Greenfield  laughed  shortly.  "Yes — this  store,  the 
electric  power  plant  and  system,  the  bank  building 
and  bank,  the  opera  house  block,  the  hotel,  the  tele 
phone  system "  The  Company  president's  tone 

256 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

and  manner  were  intended  to  imply  that  he  under 
stood  clearly  the  other's  attitude  and  that  he  recog 
nized  a  fellow-craftsman.  "Come  now,  Worth;  let's 
get  down  to  good  business.  It's  poor  policy  for  you 
and  me  to  go  against  each  other.  You  know  what 
there  is  in  it  for  all  of  us  if  we  hang  together  and 
you  know  as  well  as  I  that  we  can't  afford,  and  that 
we  don't  want,  to  fight  each  other.  What  sort  of  a 
deal  will  it  take  to  get  you  into  the  Company  ?  I  tell 
you  squarely,  we  are  going  to  make  it  almighty  hot 
for  any  independent  operator  who  tries  to  start  in 
here." 

"I  must  decline  to  consider  any  proposition  at  all 
from  the  Company,  Mr.  Greenfield." 

In  the  silence  that  followed  Greenfield  sought  in 
vain  to  look  back  of  that  gray  mask.  He  felt  for  the 
first  time  in  his  business  career  powerless  to  make 
the  next  move  in  the  game  and  somewhere  back  in 
his  active  brain  a  warning  signal  flashed :  "Go  slow !" 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Worth,"  he  said  at  last,  rising  to 
go.  "When  you  are  ready  to  consider  the  matter  let 
me  know.  In  the  meantime" — he  shrugged  his 
shoulders  and  smiled — "good  night." 

Outside  the  store  Greenfield  paused  irresolutely  as 
one  hesitates  whose  mind  is  too  preoccupied  to  direct 
his  steps.  Then  his  eye  caught  the  gleam  of  light 
from  the  printing  office  across  the  street  next  to  the 
Company  building. 

A  moment  later  he  greeted  the  young  man  who 
edited  and  published  the  Messenger.  "You  seem  to 
be  pretty  well  fixed  here,"  offered  Greenfield  after 
the  usual  greetings.  "Seems  to  me  your  prospects 

257 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

are  mighty  good  for  a  young  man.  Your  profits 
ought  to  be  big  if  you  can  hold  on  and  grow  with  the 
development  of  the  country." 

"Yes  sir,  I  feel  that  our  chances  are  good.  Kings 
ton  is  growing  rapidly  and  we  are  in  on  the  ground 
floor.'7 

Greenfield  looked  at  him  sharply  as  he  uttered  the 
now  familiar  expression.  "You  have  all  the  capital 
you  need  ?" 

"We  are  doing  very  well  so  far." 

"I  have  been  looking  your  paper  over  with  some 
care,"  the  president  went  on,  "and  I  believe  you 
have  the  right  idea.  A  newspaper  is  a  powerful 
factor  in  a  great  enterprise  like  this  and  of  course 
I  am  anxious  that  everything  that  makes  for  the 
advancement  of  our  project  should  succeed.  I  would 
be  sorry  to  see  you  crippled  in  any  way  for  lack  of 
funds.  If  you  are  open  to  consider  the  matter  I 
should  be  glad  to  take  a  good  big  interest  with  you 
and  to  undertake  to  back  you  handsomely." 

"I  don't  think  my  partner,  who  really  furnished 
all  the  capital,  would  sell,  sir." 

"Ah !    Then  you  are  not  alone  ?" 

"No  sir.  Mr.  Jefferson  Worth  practically  owns 
the  plant." 

The  first  thing  that  met  Mr.  Greenfield's  eye  as  he 
stepped  through  the  doorway  on  his  return  to  the 
hotel  was  the  broad  back  of  Horace  P.  Blanton,  who 
— carried  away  as  usual  by  the  importance  of  the 
occasion — was  "orating"  to  a  group  of  strangers.  It 
should  be  said  that,  save  when  the  Kingston  citizens 
were  in  a  certain  mood,  Horace  "orated"  usually  to 

258 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

strangers.  In  this  case  so  convincing  was  his  logic, 
so  eloquent  his  flights  of  rhetoric,  so  irresistible  his 
appeals,  that  Greenfield  saw  the  fat  neck  of  him, 
where  it  showed  between  the  fat  shoulder  and  the 
picture-general  hat,  grow  red  with  the  fierceness  of 
his  eloquence. 

"There  is  no  question  in  the  world,  gentlemen, 
that  by  long  odds  the  most  able  financier  in  the  West 
to-day  is  my  friend,  Mr.  Jefferson  Worth.  His  start 
ling  genius  as  a  captain  of  industry  is  equaled  only 
by  his  splendid  public  spirit  and  his  magnificent 
generosity  to  everyone  who  needs  a  helping  hand. 
Look  what  he  has  accomplished  for  Kingston,  while 
only  a  few  of  us  who  were  on  the  inside  knew  what 
he  was  doing — our  opera  house,  our  bank,  our  news 
paper,  our  telephone  lines,  our  ice  plant,  and  our 
power  plant — which  to-morrow  night  for  the  first 
time  will  illuminate  the  heavens.  Think  of  it !  elec 
tric  lights  in  the  midst  of  a  desert  that,  since  God 
made  it,  has  known  only  the  light  of  the  stars.  I 
maintain,  gentlemen,  that  it  is  the  duty  of  every  soul 
in  The  King's  Basin  to  be  present  at  the  celebration 
of  the  splendid  accomplishment  and  in  honor  to  my 
friend,  Worth.  Not  only  has  this  wizard  given  us 
in  Kingston  the  blessings  of  modern  civilization,  but 
there  is  scarcely  a  rancher  for  miles  around  whom 
he  has  not  aided  materially  by  furnishing  him  with 
needed  supplies  from  the  big  department  store,  or 
by  advancing  him  necessary  capital.  I  am  proud, 
gentlemen — proud,  to  call  such  a  public  benefactor 
my  friend.  Kingston  is  proud  of  her  most  distin 
guished  citizen;  the  whole  King's  Basin  country  is 

259 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

proud  of  him.  I — Oh,  excuse  me  a  minute,  gentle 
men;  as  I  see  my  friend,  Mr.  Greenfield,  the  presi 
dent  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Com 
pany,  has  just  arrived." 

Greenfield  made  an  effort  to  escape.  He  had  heard 
quite  enough.  But  it  was  useless.  The  white-vested 
bulk  of  the  orator  barred  the  way;  the  kingly  coun 
tenance  of  Horace  P.  Blanton  compelled  recognition. 
"My  dear  Greenfield,  how  are  you  ?"  The  voice  was 
the  anxious  voice  of  unmistakable  disinterested  affec 
tion.  "You  have  arrived  at  a  most  auspicious 
moment.  I  have  promised  our  people  that  you  would 
address  them  at  the  public  meeting  to-morrow  even 
ing  in  the  opera  house." 

"It  is  impossible,  Mr. — Ah!  Mr.  Blanton;  I 
never  make  public  speeches." 

Before  Greenfield  had  finished  his  curt  reply  the 
perspiring  one  had  him  by  the  arm  in  friendly 
familiarity,  and  with  the  president's  last  word  the 
answer  came  in  a  low,  confidential  tone  of  complete 
understanding.  "Of  course  you  understand  that  I 
have  arranged  this  little  affair  simply  to  encourage 
every  one  to  do  his  part  to  boom  Kingston.  It  is  to 
our  interest,  you  know,  to  keep  things  going." 

Until  a  late  hour  the  president  of  The  King's 
Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company,  with  his  Gen 
eral  Manager  and  chief  engineer,  in  the  Manager's 
private  office,  discussed  Jefferson  Worth's  operations 
and  his  growing  influence  in  The  King's  Basin 
country.  James  Greenfield  had  evidently  forgotten 
his  determination  to  spend  the  evening  with  Willard 
Holmes. 

260 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETII 

It  was  notable  that  the  president  and  his  Manager 
did  most  of  the  talking.  The  engineer  was,  for  the 
most  part,  a  silent  listener.  When  appealed  to 
directly  he  answered  briefly,  giving  such  information 
as  he  had  at  his  command,  and  several  times  his 
answers  caused  Greenfield  to  look  at  him  with  ques 
tioning  sharpness. 

Once  the  older  man  remarked:  "I  believe  you 
wrote  me,  Burk,  that  Worth's  daughter  had  arrived 
and  that  they  are  to  make  their  home  in  Kingston. 
Is  she  likely  to  prove  a  factor  in  the  matter  of  her 
father's  popularity  and  influence?  Sometimes  a 
woman,  you  know " 

Burk's  cigar  shifted  to  the  corner  of  his  mouth 
and  his  head  was  cocked  to  one  side.  "Ask  Holmes," 
he  muttered  with  a  grin. 

"I  think  you'd  better  leave  Miss  Worth  out  of  this, 
Uncle  Jim,'7  said  Holmes  so  sharply  that  Barbara's 
name  was  not  mentioned  again.  Which  does  not 
mean  at  all  that  Greenfield  had  dismissed  the  matter 
from  his  mind. 

"You  have  that  South  Central  District  survey 
ready?"  he  asked. 

"I  believe  the  boys  have  it  in  shape,"  answered* 
Burk.  The  engineer  laid  a  map  before  them,  ex 
plained  the  boundaries  of  the  proposed  district,  the 
line  of  the  proposed  canal,  and  on  another  sheet 
pointed  out  the  character  of  the  land  with  the  eleva 
tions  that  made  irrigation  of  the  larger  part  of  the 
tract  impossible. 

"You  can  vouch  for  the  correctness  of  these  figures, 
Willard  ?"  asked  Greenfield  at  last, 

261 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

"Certainly,  sir.  Black  is  one  of  the  best  men  we 
Lave." 

"And  it  is  your  opinion  that  it  would  be  a  heavy 
loss  to  the  Company  to  build  this  canal  and  attempt 
to  develop  this  section  ?" 

"I  am  sure  that  it  would,  sir.  The  district  is  prac 
tically  worthless." 

"All  right,  boys ;  that  will  be  all  for  this  evening. 
We  will  start  on  that  inspection  tour  day  after 
to-morrow  instead  of  in  the  morning  as  I  had 
planned.  I  have  a  little  business  with  our  friend 
Worth  to-morrow  morning." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
JAMES  GREENFIELD  SEEKS  AN  ADVANTAGE. 

|  HE  next  morning  Jefferson  Worth,  in  his 
office  in  the  store  building,  again  received 
the  president  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company.  James  Greenfield,  with  out 
stretched  hand,  was  quite  cordial  in  his  greeting. 

"I  owe  you  an  apology,  sir.  I  did  not  know  until 
my  return  to  the  hotel  last  night  of  the  demonstration 
to  be  held  this  evening  in  your  honor  and  in  celebra 
tion  of  the  turning  on  of  our  new  lights,  or  I  should 
have  congratulated  you  sooner.  I  am  glad  the  people 
of  Kingston  are  recognizing  you  in  this  public  man 
ner.  Permit  me  to  express  my  personal  appreciation 
also." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Worth  from  behind  his  mask. 
"I  figure  that  my  interests  in  Kingston  will  pan  out 
all  right  some  day." 

Greenfield  dropped  his  complimentary  manner  and 
came  at  once  to  business.  "Look  here,  Mr.  Worth,  I 
have  been  thinking  over  the  matter  I  mentioned  last 
night.  I  can  see  the  strength  of  your  position  here 
and  I  appreciate  the  value  of  your  operations  in  the 
development  of  this  country,  which  mean,  of  course, 
an  added  value  to  the  Company's  property  and 
interests.  We  don't  want  to  fight  you;  such  things 
are  bad  for  all  concerned.  We  would  all  lose  money 
and  it  would  have  a  bad  effect  on  the  whole  project. 

263 


THE  WIKtflJSTG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

If  you  won't  come  in  with  us,  will  you  consider  a 
proposition  that  you  can  handle  independently  ?" 

"What  is  your  proposition  ?" 

"It  is  this.  In  forming  our  plans  for  extending 
the  Company's  system  we  have  laid  out  a  new  district 
— the  South  Central.  Before  placing  the  water  rights 
on  the  open  market,  it  occurred  to  me  that  we  might 
make  a  deal  whereby  the  development  of  the  district 
would  be  assured  and  at  the  same  time  we  would  be 
free  to  use  our  forces  in  still  further  extensions.  As 
you  know,  the  settlers  are  coming  in  so  rapidly  now 
that  we  need  all  our  equipment  to  get  the  water  to 
them  as  fast  as  they  are  located.  My  proposition  is 
this:  We  will  sell  you  the  entire  amount  of  water 
rights  covering  this  South  Central  District — sixty 
thousand  shares — at  the  lowest  figure  we  can  make ; 
you  to  build  your  own  canals  and  structures.  The 
entire  district  will  thus  be  altogether  in  your  hands 
to  handle  as  you  see  fit,  we,  of  course,  being  bound 
only  to  deliver  into  your  canals  the  amount  of  water 
called  for  by  the  regular  contract  under  which  the 
rights  are  sold." 

"You  have  already  completed  the  survey  and 
formed  the  district?" 

"We  have.  The  surveys  have  just  been  completed. 
We  are  all  ready  to  go  ahead  with  our  work  and  to 
sell  the  water."  Greenfield  did  not  say  that  the  Com 
pany  was  ready  to  go  to  work  on  this  particular 
district,  nor  did  he  say  that  the  stock  would  be  offered 
for  sale  save  to  Mr.  Worth.  The  president  of  course 
expected  Worth  to  apply  his  statement  to  the  par 
ticular  tract  of  land  under  consideration  and  to 

264 


THE  WLNT]STIjSTG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

accept  it  as  establishing  beyond  question  the  value  of 
the  South  Central  District.  If  Jefferson  Worth 
noted  the  general  character  of  Greenfield's  answer 
he  gave  no  sign. 

"Where  is  the  land  located?" 

"If  you  will  step  over  to  our  office  I  can  show  you 
the  maps." 

When  Jefferson  Worth  saw  the  boundaries  of  the 
South  Central  District  showing  the  course  of  Dry 
River  and  the  San  Felipe  trail,  for  the  first  time  his 
long,  tapering  fingers,  tapping  softly  the  arm  of  his 
chair,  smoothing  his  gray  cheek  and  caressing  his 
chin  betrayed  emotion.  The  spot  where  the  San 
Felipe  trail  crossed  Dry  River  and  where  the  banker 
and  his  party  had  found  the  baby  girl  was  just  within 
the  boundary  of  the  district. 

Apparently  studying  the  map  before  him,  Bar 
bara's  father  sat  motionless  save  for  those  nervous 
fingers  ;  and  Greenfield,  thinking  that  the  man's  mind 
was  intent  upon  the  business  under  consideration, 
spoke  no  word.  But  Jefferson  Worth  was  not  think 
ing  of  business.  He  was  seeing  again  a  brown-eyed, 
brown-haired  baby  girl,  who  shrank  back  from  his 
outstretched  arms  as  though  in  fear. 

But  that  mask-like  face  betrayed  no  hint  of  emo 
tion,  and  when  the  banker  spoke  again  it  was  to  ask 
mechanically :  "Where  is  your  engineer  ?" 

Greenfield  looked  inquiringly  at  Burk.  The  Man 
ager  touched  a  button  on  his  desk.  To  the  young 
man  who  answered  the  signal  the  Manager  said : 
"Charlie,  if  Mr.  Holmes  is  in  the  building  please 
ask  him  to  step  in  here  a  moment." 

265 


THE  wiraxira-  or  BARBAKA  WORTH 

Presently  the  chief  engineer  stood  before  them.  An 
expression  of  surprise  flashed  over  his  bronzed  face 
as  he  saw  Mr.  Worth.  From  the  banker  his  glance 
moved  swiftly  to  Burk  and  Greenfield,  then  fell  on 
the  map  before  the  three  men. 

Instantly  he  saw  Greenfield's  purpose.  But  what 
did  they  want  of  him  ?  Surely  they  would  not  dare 
ask  him  to  make  a  false  statement  regarding  the 
surveys!  He  could  not  interfere;  it  was  not  his 
business.  It  was  the  creed  of  his  type  that  in  business 
transactions  every  man  must  take  care  of  himself; 
tmt  the  Company  must  not  ask  him  to  lie  for  them. 
As  these  thoughts  went  through  his  mind  his  form 
straightened  and  his  eyes  shot  a  warning — almost  a 
defiant — look  at  his  two  superiors. 

Greenfield  saw  and  signaled  caution.  Burk  saw 
and  smiled.  But  none  of  the  three  Company  men 
could  have  told  whether  Jefferson  Worth,  who  was 
bending  over  the  map,  saw  or  not. 

Before  the  others  could  speak  the  banker,  without 
looking  up,  said :  "I  just  wanted  to  ask,  Mr.  Holmes, 
whether  you  can  tell  me  about  the  character  of  the 
soil  in  this  new  district  ?" 

"The  soil,  Mr.  Worth,  is,  I  believe,  as  good  as  there 
is  in  the  Basin." 

The  three  men  awaited  the  next  question  with 
breathless  interest. 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Holmes.  Mr.  Greenfield,  I  will 
consider  the  proposition." 

The  president  and  manager  could  scarcely  believe 
their  ears.  The  engineer  vanished. 

Jefferson   Worth   continued:      "How   long   have 

266 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

you  planned  to  be  in  the  Basin  this  trip,  Mr.  Green 
field  ?" 

"This  week  only.  I  start  on  my  inspection  with 
Mr.  Burk  and  Mr.  Holmes  in  the  morning/7 

"I  asked  because  I  must  go  out  in  the  morning  for 
a  few  days,  and  I  suppose  you  wish  to  close  the  deal 
before  you  leave." 

"You  think  favorably  of  the  proposition,  then  ?" 

"If  we  can  get  together  on  the  terms" — Worth 
spoke  exactly,  as  if  he  wished  his  words  to  be  remem 
bered — "I  will  accept  it.  Suppose  you  put  your 
proposition  in  writing  and  mail  it  to  me  in  the  city 
to-morrow.  Then  when  I  get  back  we  will  be  in  shape 
to  finish  the  matter  one  way  or  the  other.  If  every 
thing  is  satisfactory  and  I  see  I  can't  get  home  before 
you  leave  I  will  wire  you." 

Thirty  minutes  after  Jefferson  Worth  had  returned 
to  his  office,  Abe  Lee  came  in.  "You  sent  for  me, 
sir  ?" 

Abe's  employer  arose  and  closed  the  door. 

That  evening  about  dusk  the  surveyor  rode  out  of 
Kingston  on  the  road  toward  Frontera.  And  that 
night,  while  the  celebration  was  in  full  swing  and 
the  new  electric  lights  were  sputtering  and  hissing 
in  honor  of  Jefferson  Worth,  a  loaded  wagon,  drawn 
by  four  mules,  quietly  left  the  rear  of  the  Worth 
store.  On  the  driver's  seat  sat  Pablo.  With  little 
noise  the  outfit,  with  its  lone  driver,  left  the  town 
in  the  midst  of  its  demonstration  and  was  soon  in  the 
open  country  on  the  road  leading  south. 

An  hour  later  they  had  passed  the  ranches  and 
were  in  the  Desert.  Just  beyond  where  a  party  of 

267 


THE  WIPING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

Jefferson  Worth's  linemen,  who  were  stringing  the 
telephone  wires,  was  encamped,  the  Mexican  halted 
his  team  and  the  heavy  form  of  Pat  came  out  of  the 
darkness  and  climbed  with  smothered  grunts  and 
curses  to  his  side. 

Another  hour  and  they  reached  the  point  where 
the  new  road  crossed  the  old  San  Felipe  trail.  Again 
Pablo  halted  his  team.  Ten — fifteen — twenty  minutes 
they  waited  in  listening  silence,  save  for  an  occa 
sional  grunt  from  the  Irishman.  Then  from  the 
south  came  the  sound  of  wheels  and  horses'  feet. 

"Git  under  way,  Pablo,"  mumbled  Pat.  "Ut  may 
not  be  thim,  an'  Abe  will  hang  yer  black  hide  on  the 
new  tiliphone  line  av  anybody  goin'  to  town  stops  to 
pass  ye  the  time  av  night." 

Pablo  swung  his  team  to  the  left  and  drove  slowly 
ahead  on  the  old  trail.  A  hundred  yards  farther  on 
they  were  overtaken  by  Abe  Lee  and  Texas  Joe,  who 
were  driving  a  light  spring  wagon. 

"Everything  all  right,  boys  ?"  asked  the  surveyor 
sharply. 

"Si,  Senor,"  and  "Yis,  Sorr,"  came  the  answers. 

"Good.  We'll  hit  the  grit  good  and  hard  now  for 
we  must  be  in  the  sand  hills  by  morning." 

Twenty-four  hours  after  Jefferson  Worth  left 
Kingston,  the  east  bound  overland  express  came  to  a 
full  stop  in  the  Desert  at  a  point  about  twenty  miles 
west  of  Eubio  City. 

The  trainmen  and  porters  ran  to  the  vestibules 
and,  throwing  open  the  doors,  looked  out.  Three  or 
four  passengers  who  had  risen  early  followed  the 
crew,  inquiring  anxiously  the  reason  for  the  delay. 

268 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH  - 

The  big  conductor  was  standing  by  the  rear  steps  of 
the  Pullman  and  a  medium  sized  man  swung  down 
to  the  ground  by  his  side.  Back  from  the  track,  in 
the  gray  of  the  morning,  the  watchers  saw  a  tiny  fire, 
over  which  two  roughly  dressed  figures  crouched, 
evidently  preparing  breakfast,  while  a  team,  with  a 
light  spring  wagon,  stood  tied  to  a  nearby  mesquite 
tree.  On  every  hand  the  great  desert  stretched  its 
vast  dun  plain  without  a  sign  of  life  save  for  the 
train  and  the  men  and  horses  by  the  lonely  fire. 

"Right,  sir  ?"  asked  the  conductor  of  the  man  who 
alighted  by  his  side. 

"All  right,"  answered  the  other  in  a  low  tone. 

"Good-by,  sir." 

"Good-by." 

The  conductor  lifted  his  hand,  and,  as  the  train 
started  swung  aboard.  The  watchers  saw  the  man 
walk,  without  a  glance  at  the  departing  train,  straight 
toward  the  little  group  at  the  fire. 

"Well,  what  do  you  make  of  that  ?"  cried  an 
excited  tourist  as  the  conductor  came  up  the  steps 
into  the  vestibule  and  the  porter  slammed  down  the 
platform  and  closed  the  door.  And — "Who  is  he  ?" 
"Where  is  he  going  ?"  "What  is  he  doing  ?"  came  in 
chorus  from  the  others. 

The  conductor  shook  his  head  with  a  smile.  "Don't 
ask  me.  I  had  orders  to  stop  here  to  let  him  off; 
that's  all  I  know." 

Jefferson  Worth  greeted  Abe  Lee  and  Texas  Joe 
as  coolly  as  though  it  was  his  daily  habit  to  meet 
them  at  that  hour  and  place.  "How  is  everything, 
Abe?" 

269 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WORTH 


t 


a  hitch  so  far,"  answered  the  surveyor ;  and 
Tex  drawled:  "Coffee  and  frijoles  ready,  Mr. 
Worth." 

aCan  we  make  it  to  the  outfit  today  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Worth  as  they  finished  their  rude  meal  and  prepared 
to  start. 

^"Easy,"  answered  Abe.  "We  have  plenty  of  water 
with  us  and  this  team  will  do  it  without  turning  a 
hair." 

Just  before  sundown  at  a  point  on  Dry  Eiver  they 
found  Pat  and  Pablo  with  the  outfit  in  a  comfortable 
camp. 

While  Abe  Lee,  with  his  helpers,  was  running  his 
levels  over  the  proposed  line  of  the  canal  staked  out 
by  the  Company  surveyors  in  the  South  Central 
District,  Willard  Holmes  was  trying  to  make  Mr. 
Greenfield  see  the  necessity  of  spending  more  money 
on  the  unsafe  structures  and  at  Dry  Eiver  heading. 
He  explained,  argued  and  pleaded  in  vain. 

"My  dear  boy,"  said  the  Company's  president. 
"You  must  understand  that  we  are  not  in  this  country 
for  sweet  charity's  sake.  Burk,  here,  can  tell  you  that 
we  have  not  yet  begun  to  get  our  investment  back. 
When  the  returns  justify  it  we  will  give  you  the 
money  for  your  construction  work,  but  we  can't  do  it 
now.  The  rights  of  the  men  who  are  putting  up  the 
capital  for  this  project  must  be  considered,  you  know. 
We  can't  use  a  dollar  of  the  Company's  money  except 
when  it  is  necessary.  If  I  were  to  let  you  spend  all 
the  money  you  want,  we  never  would  pay  a  divi 
dend." 

"But,  Uncle  Jim,  you  are  forcing  these  settlers  to 
270 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

take  terrible  chances  blindly.  Have  they  not  rights 
also  ?  The  interest  of  the  Company  is  mighty  small 
compared  with  the  interests  of  the  men  who  are 
buying  the  water  rights  and  developing  the  land." 

Greenfield  flushed  angrily.  "Look  here,  Willard, 
you  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  Company's  business 
policy.  As  the  engineer  in  charge,  your  work  is  to 
protect  both  the  settlers  and  us  to  the  best  of  your 
ability,  but  don't  get  any  fool  notions  into  your  head. 
You  can't  afford  to  go  the  way  of  that  dreamer  who 
started  this  work  with  the  exalted  idea  of  making 
it  a  benefit  to  the  whole  human  race.  That  line  of 
talk  is  all  right  for  the  boosters  like  Horace  P.  Blan- 
ton,  but  we've  got  to  make  good  in  dollars  and  centa 
or  the  whole  thing  goes  to  smash." 

With  the  South  Central  deal  still  on  his  mind  and 
the  picture  of  Barbara,  as  she  talked  to  him  of  his 
work  the  morning  he  had  met  her  in  the  desert,  in 
his  heart,  these  business  discussions  with  Greenfield 
and  Burk  were  almost  unbearable  to  the  engineer. 
After  they  had  inspected  the  intake,  the  Dry  River 
heading  and  the  levees  of  the  main  canal  he  pleaded 
an  urgent  need  of  his  presence  at  the  office  and  left 
the  party,  to  reach  Kingston  two  days  in  advance  of 
their  return. 

Barbara  was  on  the  porch  when  he  stopped  at  the 
gate,  tired,  hot  and  dusty  from  his  long  trip.  The 
girl,  dressed  in  some  cool  simple  white  stuff  and 
seated  in  her  easy  wicker  chair  in  the  deep  shade 
of  the  wide  porch,  made  a  picture  wonderfully 
attractive  to  the  man  who  had  ridden  all  day  in  the 
scorching  heat  of  the  desert  sun.  Of  course  he  must 

271 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

come  in.  What  nonsense  to  talk  of  his  appearance. 
He  was  not  making  a  fashionable  social  call.  The 
weary  engineer  dropped  into  a  chair  and  gratefully 
accepted  the  glass  of  cool  lemonade  she  brought. 

"I  made  it  myself  not  five  minutes  ago,  just  as  if 
I  had  known  you  were  coming/'  she  said  with  a 
laugh  that  was  as  refreshing  as  the  drink  itself. 
"Ynez  is  up  town  shopping  for  supper.  Father  is  in 
the  city.  Abe  has  gone  away  somewhere.  Even 
Pablo  has  vanished  and  I  haven't  seen  Texas  Joe 
nor  Pat  for  a  week.  I  was  wishing  someone  would 
happen  along.  I  suppose  that's  really  why  I  made 
the  lemonade." 

Holmes  set  his  glass  carefully  on  the  porch  railing 
near  at  hand. 

"Won't  you  have  some  more  ?" 

"Thank  you,  no.  You  are  quite  deserted,  aren't 
you  ?  How  long  has  Lee  been  gone  ?" 

"Oh,  he  went  the  evening  before  father  left  and 
Pablo  vanished  the  same  night.  It  was  quite  tragic, 
and  the  next  day  I  was  in  the  office  when  a  man  from 
the  line  came  in  asking  for  Pat.  He  seems  to  have 
disappeared  the  same  way.  I  think  they  might  at 
least  have  left  some  word  or  said  good-by." 

In  her  innocent  talk  Barbara  had  told  the  whole 
story.  It  was  easy  for  the  Company  engineer  to 
guess  where  the  surveyor  and  his  helpers  had  gone 
and  what  they  were  doing.  "Are  you  sure  that  your 
father  is  in  the  city  ?"  he  asked  jokingly. 

Barbara  laughed.  "Oh,  there's  no  doubt  about 
father.  His  departure  was  regular  in  every  way." 

On  his  way  to  the  office  a  little  later  Holmes 

272 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

chuckled  to  himself,  keenly  enjoying  the  situation. 
He  mentally  pictured  the  chagrin  of  Greenfield  and 
Burk  when  he  should  tell  them  what  he  had  learned. 
But  would  he  tell  them  ?  He  had  not  told  Mr.  Worth 
what  he  knew  of  the  Company's  survey  in  the  South 
Central  District.  Why  should  he  tell  the  Company 
what  he  knew  of  Worth's  surveyors  ?  Once  he  would 
have  considered  that  loyalty  to  his  employers 
demanded  that  he  tell  what  he  had  learned.  But 
now,  since  he  had  been  assured  so  very  emphatically 
and  very  recently  that  the  policy  of  the  Company 
was  none  of  his  business,  let  the  shrewd  Manager 
and  the  president  find  out  for  themselves.  Anyway, 
he  told  himself,  it  could  make  no  difference,  for  he 
knew  what  the  result  of  Abe's  surveys  would  be  and 
he  was  glad  indeed  that  Barbara's  father  had  not 
walked  into  the  trap  set  for  him.  The  engineer  had 
concerned  himself  not  a  little  about  the  probable  view 
Barbara  would  take  of  his  attitude  in  permitting  her 
father  to  purchase  water  rights  that  he  knew  to  be 
worthless.  But  now  Mr.  Worth  himself  would  dis 
cover  the  trick  of  the  Company  men  and  it  would  not 
matter. 

To  his  surprise  and  chagrin  Jefferson  Worth 
walked  into  the  Company  office  a  few  days  later  and, 
in  his  exact  colorless  voice,  said :  "I  will  accept  your 
proposition  Mr.  Greenfield.  If  you  wish  we  can  fix 
up  the  contract  and  close  the  deal  to-day." 


273 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 
THE  GAME  PROGRESSES. 

|  HE  purchase  of  the  South  Central  District 
water  rights  by  Jefferson  Worth  was  imme 
diately  announced  by  The  King's  Basin  Mes 
senger  in  a  lengthy  article  which  began  with  the 
modest  statement  that  this  was  the  largest  and  most 
important  business  transaction  that  had  yet  occurred 
in  the  new  country.  The  article  declared  that  the 
name  of  Jefferson  Worth  was  a  guarantee  that  the 
new  district  would  be  made  the  richest  and  most  pros 
perous  section  of  the  Basin  and  that — splendid  as  the 
undertaking  was — it  was  only  the  beginning  of  far 
greater  things  to  be  wrought  by  the  wizard  of  the 
desert  whose  genius  had  made  him  the  greatest  -factor 
in  the  reclamation  and  development  of  The  King's 
Basin  country.  The  work  would  be  begun  at  once — 
as  soon  as  men  and  teams  could  be  secured. 

The  thoughtful  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin 
Land  and  Irrigation  Company  read  the  article  with 
a  grin,  shifted  his  cigar  to  the  corner  of  his  mouth, 
cocked  his  head  to  one  side  and  sent  a  marked  copy 
of  the  paper  to  the  Company's  president. 

James  Greenfield  read  the  article  with  the  satis 
faction  of  a  good  business  man  who  sees  his  com 
petitor  heavily  over-stocked  with  a  line  of  goods  for 
which  there  is  no  market.  The  pioneers  in  the  desert, 

274 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

who  were  not  already  located,  and  the  newly  arriving 
prospectors  read  and  called  upon  Mr.  Worth  for 
further  information.  The  article,  reprinted  in  the 
Rubio  City  papers,  was  read  by  many  who,  familiar 
with  Jefferson  Worth's  business  record,  took  the  San 
Felipe  trail  for  the  new  district. 

The  main  supply  camp  for  the  new  work  was 
established  at  Dry  River  Crossing,  the  location  being 
ideal,  with  an  abundant  supply  of  running  water 
from  the  waste  gate  at  the  heading  coming  down  the 
old  channel  where  Barbara's  mother  had  perished  of 
thirst  beside  a  dry  water  hole.  From  the  camp,  the 
San  Felipe  trail  led  in  one  direction  straight  to  Rubio 
City  and  in  the  other  to  the  main  road  in  the  heart 
of  the  Basin  half  way  between  Kingston  and 
Frontera.  At  this  camp  Jefferson  Worth  made  his 
headquarters.  Not  a  man,  whether  he  presented 
himself  empty-handed  or  with  team  and  tools,  but 
was  forced  to  talk  with  Mr.  Worth  in  his  tent  office 
before  he  was  set  to  work  under  Abe  Lee  and  his 
three  lieutenants — Texas,  Pat  and  Pablo. 

It  was  in  those  days  that  Willard  Holmes  reported 
to  the  Manager  that  many  of  his  men  were  leaving 
the  Company  and  were  going  to  work  for  Jefferson 
Worth.  The  news  did  not  appear  to  alarm  Mr.  Burk. 
With  a  grin  he  advised  the  engineer,  "Don't  worry, 
old  man.  They'll  be  damned  glad  to  come  back  to  us 
before  many  weeks." 

"I  was  looking  out  a  route  for  the  new  central 
main  yesterday,"  said  Holmes,  "and  rode  over  to 
Worth's  camp  at  the  Crossing.  Judging  from  the 
size  and  activity  of  the  camp,  he  is  planning  to  go 

275 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

in  good  and  strong.  He  must  have  a  big  force  at 
work  now  and  lie  is  taking  on  men  all  the  time." 

"Your  Uncle  Jim  will  be  delighted  to  hear  of 
Friend  Jefferson's  enterprise." 

The  engineer's  face  did  not  express  appreciation 
of  the  Manager's  wit.  "Have  you  heard  the  proposi 
tion  that  Mr.  Worth  is  making  to  every  man  on  the 
job?"  he  asked. 

"No,  what  is  he  doing?  Giving  away  one  hun 
dred  and  sixty  shares  of  stock  with  free  telephones 
and  electric  lights,  passes  at  the  opera  house,  unlim 
ited  credit  at  the  store  and  a  deposit  at  the  bank  as 
a  bonus  to  anyone  who  will  locate  in  his  district? 
He  seems  to  have  all  kinds  of  money  to  throw  away." 

"It's  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,"  answered  the  other 
with  a  smile.  "But  he  tells  every  man,  when  he 
hires  him,  to  file  on  any  claim  in  the  district  that  he 
wants  and  he  can  have  the  water  rights  for  it  without 
any  cash  payment  and  without  any  interest  for  five 
years.  In  a  good  many  cases  he  is  even  advancing 
money  to  pay  the  government  entry  fee  and  promis 
ing  to  carry  them  for  their  equipment  and  supplies 
until  they  make  a  crop.  But  he  makes  them  agree 
to  stay  on  the  land  and  actually  farm  the  claims.  He 
won't  let  a  speculator  even  look  in." 

Mr.  Burk  expressed  his  opinion  of  Jefferson 
Worth's  ability  in  the  strongest  terms.  The  man  was 
insane,  childish!  Those  fellows  would  leave  him 
high  and  dry. 

"That's  what  I  said  at  first,"  agreed  Holmes.  "I 
asked  Bill  Watson,  who  quit  us  with  his  team  at 
Number  Five  to  go  to  work  in  the  South  Central,  if 

276 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

he  actually  thought  Worth  was  going  to  let  his  men 
make  all  the  money." 

"What  did  Bill  say  ?" 

Holmes  smiled.  "  You  know  how  Bill  talks  ?  'Hell, 
no/  he  said.  'I  put  it  to  the  old  man  just  that  way 
myself.  I  says,  say  I :  'That  sounds  good  all  right, 
Mr.  Worth ;  but  it  ain't  reasonable  that  you're  leavin' 
yourself  out  of  this  deal.  Where  do  you  come  in?' 
says  I.  'Who's  the  joker  in  this  little  game  ?' ' 

"And  Worth  explained  ?"  put  in  Burk  eagerly, 
shaken  out  of  his  usual  thoughtful  calm  by  Holmes's 
story. 

"Bill  says  that  Mr.  Worth  told  him  that  he  owns 
a  big  tract  of  land  where  the  camp  is  located  and 
that  he  is  going  to  build  a  town  there  and  would 
make  his  money  by  the  increased  value  of  his  prop 
erty  that  would  result  from  the  development  of  the 
district;  by  business  enterprises  that  would  depend 
on  the  prosperity  of  the  ranchers;  and  by  the  large 
increase  in  the  value  of  water  rights  that  he  would 
sell  later  to  those  who  came  in  to  invest  after  the 
district  was  developed.  I  suggested  to  Bill  that  he 
could  see  how  Worth  was  simply  using  him  to  gain 
his  own  ends." 

"And  did  Bill  see  the  point  ?" 

"He  said :  'You're  damned  right  he  is,  and  so  am 
I  usin'  Jefferson  Worth  to  gain  my  ends,  ain't  I  ? 
I  might  work  for  the  Company  a  hundred  years  and 
never  get  a  cent  more  than  the  wages  that  you're 
payin'  now.  Jefferson  Worth,  he  pays  me  the  same 
wages  and  gives  me  a  chance  to  get  my  share  of  all 
that  comes  out  of  what  I  do.  I  don't  care  a  damn  if 

277 


THE  WIPING  OF  BAEBAEA  WORTH 

lie  makes  ten  millions  out  of  the  country.  I  hope  he 
will,  because  he  is  giving  us  poor  devils,  who  ain't 
got  nothin'  now,  a  chance  to  get  a  ranch  an'  do  some- 
thin'  for  ourselves.  Of  course  he  uses  us  to  make 
money  for  himself.  So  does  the  Company  use  us, 
don't  they?  The  difference  is  that  Jefferson  Worth 
lets  us  use  him  and  the  Company  just  counts  us  in 
with  the  rest  of  the  live  stock.' ' 

"How  did  you  get  around  that?"  asked  Burk, 
studying  his  companion's  face. 

"I  didn't  get  around  it,"  answered  the  engineer 
dryly. 

Burk  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  spoke  with 
unusual  earnestness.  "Bill  is  right,  Holmes.  We 
consider  the  men  who  work  for  us  as  we  consider 
horses  and  mules.  We  feed  the  stock ;  we  pay  wages 
to  the  men.  When  an  animal  is  worn  out  and  use 
less,  we  kill  him  and  get  another.  When  a  man  is 
down  and  out,  we  fire  him  and  hire  another,  and  you 
and  I  are  no  better.  The  Company  looks  on  us 
exactly  the  same  way.  We  have  no  more  real  interest 
in  this  work  than  the  skinniest  old  plug  on  the  job 
and  the  Company  won't  permit  us  to  have.  They 
think  they  couldn't  afford  it — that  it  wouldn't  be 
Good  Business.  'Get  up!'  'Whoa!'  'Back!'  'Move, 
damn  you!  and  here's  your  corn  and  hay.'  That's 
all  we  have  to  do  with  it.  If  you  balk  and  kick,  out 
you  go  to  rustle  your  own  feed.  It's  a  beautiful 
system — for  the  Company.  I  almost  wish  that  Worth 
had  a  chance  to  try  out  his  scheme.  It  would  at  least 
be  an  interesting  experiment  to  watch." 


278 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

"Well,  why  hasn't  he  a  chance  to  try  it  out  ?" 

"You  know  very  well  why.  Because  the  deal  that 
your  talented  uncle  fixed  up  for  our  friend  Jeff  was 
loaded  for  the  express  purpose  of  blowing  that 
philanthropic  promoter  into  financial  Kingdom-come. 
Didn't  you  report  that  the  development  of  that  South 
Central  District  was  practically  impossible  because 
of  the  elevations  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  ordinarily  the  project  would  have  been 
abandoned  then  and  there.  But  I  suggested  to  Mr. 
Greenfield  that  we  go  ahead  as  if  everything  was  all 
right  and  then  unload  it  on  Worth  so  that  he  would 
smash  himself,  as  he  is  doing." 

"You  should  be  proud  of  your  scheme." 

"I  am  proud  of  the  scheme,  but  I'm  not  proud  of 
myself.  I'm  being  a  good  mule,  that's  all.  Jefferson 
Worth  took  our  apparent  purpose  to  go  ahead  with 
the  work  as  evidence  that  the  proposition  was  all 
right  and  that's  why  Jefferson  Worth  will  not  finish 
his  intended  experiment." 

"Yes,  but  the  fact  is  he  did  not  accept  the  propo 
sition  without  investigation." 

"What?" 

The  engineer  told  the  Manager  what  he  had 
learned  from  Barbara.  Burk  whistled  softly.  "Then 
you  think  the  old  fox  sent  Abe  Lee  out  to  check  our 
survey  and  framed  up  his  trip  to  the  city  to  gain 

time?  Well,  I'll  be But  look  here,  Holmes, 

Worth  didn't  accept  our  proposition  until  after  he 
had  investigated?" 


279 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOETH 

"No." 

"Well;  who  makes  the  mistake  then,  your  man 
Black  or  Abe  Lee  ?" 

"That's  exactly  what  I'd  like  to  know,"  said  the 
Company's  chief  engineer  grimly. 

The  Manager  grinned  as  he  saw  the  possibilities 
of  the  situation,  then  thoughtfully  he  selected  a  cigar. 
"Pretty  game,  isn't  it,  old  man,"  he  said  and  offered 
the  box  to  Holmes  who  declined. 

When  the  weed  was  going  well  the  Manager's  head 
tipped  toward  his  left  shoulder  and  his  cigar  was  in 
the  opposite  corner  of  his  mouth.  "And  you  knew 
what  Worth  was  up  to  before  the  deal  was  closed  ? 
Why  didn't  you  report  it,  Holmes  ?" 

The  engineer  frowned.  "I  didn't  tell  Mr.  Worth 
what  Black's  survey  showed,  and  you  must  remember 
that  Uncle  Jim  rubbed  it  into  me  good  and  hard  on 
the  question  of  the  construction  work  that  the  policy 
of  the  Company  was  none  of  my  business.  This  deal 
was  not  in  my  department." 

"Dear  me,"  murmured  the  Manager  with  another 
grin.  "What  a  well-broken  Company  mule  it  is. 
And  you  were  so  dead  sure  of  your  man  Black. 
Which  would  you  rather,  my  boy,  have  Black  right 
and  Abe  wrong — the  Company  to  win ;  or  have  Black 
wrong  and  Abe  right — and  Jefferson  Worth  free  to 
go  on  with  his  little  experiment  ?" 

"Speak  for  yourself,"  growled  Holmes. 

"I  will,"  returned  Burk.  "I  have  been  a  good 
mule,  so  my  conscience  is  clear.  If  I  knew  how  and 
thought  it  would  do  any  good  I  would  pray  that  Abe 
Lee  made  no  mistake." 

230 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

"Well,  I  won't  believe  that  it's  Black's  mistake. 
He  comes  from  too  good  a  school,"  Holmes  replied 
stubbornly. 

"And  your  confidence  in  your  man  is  no  doubt 
equaled  by  Worth's  confidence  in  his.  Interesting, 
isn't  it  ?" 

"You  go  to  thunder !"  growled  the  engineer  unable 
to  stand  more.  The  Manager's  mocking  laugh  fol 
lowed  him  out  of  the  room. 

As  the  engineer  passed  the  open  window  of  the 
office  a  moment  later  Burk  called  to  him  softly :  "Oh, 
Holmes;  I  have  an  idea  that  may  be  helpful  to  you 
in  the  matter." 

Against  his  will  the  engineer  paused  and  drew 
close  to  the  window.  "Well  ?" 

"Why  don't  you  call  on  Miss  Worth  ?    Perhaps — " 

But  Willard  Holmes  fled.  And  yet  that  which 
Burk  suggested  in  jest  was  exactly  what  Willard 
Holmes  had  already  determined  in  his  own  mind 
to  do. 

The  engineer  had  not  seen  Barbara  since  the  con 
clusion  of  the  South  Central  deal  and  he  was  con 
tinually  asking  himself  how  the  girl  would  look  upon 
his  part  in  that  transaction,  or  rather  his  failure  to 
take  a  part  in  it.  Barbara's  frank  confession,  when 
she  had  asked  him  to  forgive  her  for  blaming  him 
because  of  the  Seer's  dismissal  that  they  might  start 
square,  had  put  their  friendship  upon  such  a  ground 
that  the  man  felt  guilty  in  not  confessing  at  once 
to  her  how  he  had  aided  Greenfield  and  Burk  in  their 
effort  to  trap  her  father.  He  could  not  shake  off  the 
conviction  that  she  would  undoubtedly  look  upon  his 

281 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

attitude  as  being  what  she  had  called  untrue  to  the 
work — the  one  thing  she  had  declared  she  could  not 
forgive.  Would  she  forgive  him  ?  She  had  been  so 
interested  in  his  work,  and  the  engineer  was  begin 
ning  to  realize  how  very  much  this  meant  to  him. 

At  the  Worth  home  the  engineer  learned  from  the 
Indian  woman  that  Barbara  had  left  Kingston  that 
morning  to  visit  her  father  in  his  camp  in  the  South 
Central  District.  She  had  gone  with  Texas  Joe  in 
the  buckboard  and  they  had  taken  her  saddle  horse, 
El  Capitan. 

When  would  La  Senorita  return?  Ynez  did  not 
know. 


282 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
GATHERED  AT  BARBARA'S  COURT. 

|ARBARA'S  trip  to  the  South  Central  Dis 
trict  was  full  of  interest.  Riding  with 
Texas  Joe  in  a  light  buckboard  drawn  by  a 
span  of  lively  broncos  with  El  Capitan  leading 
behind,  she  was  as  merry  as  a  school-girl  out  for  a 
long-talked-of  holiday.  The  dark-faced  old  plains 
man,  whose  iron  will  and  marvelous  endurance  had 
brought  his  companions  and  the  baby  safely  out  of 
that  land  of  death  years  before,  turned  often  to  look 
at  her  now  while  his  keen  eyes,  dark  still  under  their 
grizzly  brows,  were  soft  with  fond  regard,  and  his 
voice,  gentle  and  drawling  as  ever,  was  filled  with 
tender  affection.  Under  his  drooping  gray  mustache, 
black  once,  his  slow  smile  came  in  the  ready  answer 
of  full  sympathy  with  her  mood. 

Eager  as  ever  to  know  all  about  the  work  of 
reclaiming  her  Desert,  the  young  woman  plied  him 
with  questions  and  Texas  exerted  himself  to  recall 
scenes  and  incidents  of  which  he  had  not  told  her 
before.  He  reviewed  the  work  from  that  first  survey 
to  the  present  with  vivid  pictures  of  life  in  the  camps, 
in  the  towns,  or  on  the  trail,  with  construction  gangs 
and  grading  crews  or  freighters'  outfits,  and  the 
glimpses  of  toil  and  hardship,  discomforts  and  suffer 
ing  lost  none  of  their  reality  in  the  dry  humor  of 

283 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

his  words.  Texas  Joe  was  of  that  sort  who  habitually 
laugh  at  hardships,  who,  indeed,  could  not  otherwise 
live  in  the  wild  lands  they  helped  to  tame.  Nor  did 
the  shrewd  old  frontiersman  fail  to  observe  how  most 
of  Barbara's  questions  required  in  their  answers 
something  touching  Willard  Holmes,  or  how  the  inci 
dents  that  pleased  her  most  were  those  in  which  the 
engineer  figured.  On  her  part  the  young  woman  was 
secretly  delighted  to  see  how  loyally  her  companion 
spoke  in  admiring  praise  of  the  desert-bred  surveyor, 
Abe  Lee.  Whenever  the  name  of  Holmes  was  men 
tioned,  Abe  was  somehow  brought  into  the  story. 

"Mr.  Holmes  is  really  a  fine  engineer,  don't  you 
think?"  asked  Barbara  mischievously  at  the  conclu 
sion  of  a  story  in  which  both  Holmes  and  Abe 
figured. 

"Sure  he  is.  I  don't  reckon  them  eastern  schools 
ever  turned  out  a  better.  And  what  counts  more, 
sometimes,  he's  all  man,  he  is.  But  you  see,  honey, 
he  belongs  to  the  Company.  Abe  now,  wal — you  see, 
Abe,  he  sabeys  the  country  like  a  burro  does  the  cook 
shack  and  he's  just  as  good  a  man  as  the  Easterner, 
though  not  so  pretty  to  look  at.  And  you  can  bet 
there  don't  no  Company  get  a  hobble  on  Abe." 

"Do  the  men  who  work  for  the  Company  like  Mr. 
Holmes?" 

"Sure  they  do.  All  the  men  like  Holmes  fine.  But 
they  just  naturally  love  Abe." 

But  when  they  had  turned  into  the  San  Felipe 
trail  and  were  traveling  eastward,  Barbara  ceased  to 
question  Texas  about  the  reclamation  work  and  led 
him  to  tell  her  again  the  familiar  story  of  his  journey 

284 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

from  San  Felipe  with  Mr.  Worth,  the  Seer,  Pat  and 
the  boy  Abe,  in  the  days  when  that  old  road  was  the 
only  mark  of  man  in  all  those  miles  of  desolate  waste. 

Reaching  a  point  where  the  sand  hills  could  be 
distinguished,  he  pointed  them  out  to  her,  and  the 
young  woman,  at  sight  of  the  huge  rolling  drifts 
that  shone  all  golden  in  the  desert  sun,  grasped  his 
arm  with  a  low  exclamation.  In  silence,  as  they 
drew  nearer,  they  watched  the  low  yellow  hills  lift 
their  naked  bulk  up  from  the  gray  and  green  patches 
of  salt-bush  and  greasewood  that  so  thinly  carpeted 
the  plain.  When  even  the  desert  vegetation  could  find 
no  life  in  the  ever  shifting  sands  and  the  first  of  the 
great  drifts  loomed  huge  and  forbidding  against  the 
sky,  seeming  to  bar  their  way,  Barbara  spoke  again. 
"Now  tell  me,  Uncle  Tex ;  tell  me  as  we  go  just  how 
it  was  and  show  me  the  places." 

The  plainsman  did  not  answer  and  she  urged 
again:  "Please,  Uncle  Tex,  tell  me.  I  want  to  see 
it  all  just  as  it  happened.  I  feel  that  I  must,  don't 
you  understand  ?" 

So  the  old  plainsman  told  her  and  pointed  out  the 
places  as  nearly  as  he  could,  explaining  how  the  drifts 
moved  always  eastward  under  the  winds;  how  at 
times,  most  frequently  in  the  spring  months,  when 
the  fierce  gales  swept  down  through  the  Pass  and 
across  the  Basin,  the  huge  billows  of  sand  would  roll 
forward  so  swiftly  that  tents  or  wagons  in  their  path 
would  be  buried  in  a  few  hours,  and  how,  in  the  calm 
seasons,  with  every  light  breeze  they  work  their  silent 
way  inch  by  inch.  Even  as  he  spoke  Barbara,  look 
ing,  saw  a  thin  film  of  sand,  fine  as  powdered  snow, 

285 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

curl  like  mist  over  the  edge  of  a  drift  as  a  breath  of 
air  swept  lightly  up  the  western  slope  and  over  the 
summit  of  the  hill. 

At  the  point  where  Mr.  Worth's  party  had  camped 
to  await  the  passing  of  the  storm,  Texas  stopped  the 
team  and  showed  her  how  they  had  rigged  their  rude 
canvas  shelter  on  one  side  of  the  wagon  to  protect 
themselves  from  the  cutting  blast.  Farther  on  he 
pointed  out  the  spot  where  they  had  found  the  horse 
with  the  broken  halter  strap,  and  then  they  came  to 
the  great  drift  where  her  people  had  made  their  last 
camp  and  where,  later,  Jefferson  Worth  had  spent 
that  night  alone  with  the  spirit  that  lives  in  La 
Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios. 

Again  Texas  halted  his  team,  and  Barbara,  leav 
ing  her  companion  in  the  buckboard,  climbed  to  the 
top  of  the  hill  that  held  buried  deep  in  its  heart — 
what?  Was  the  body  of  her  true  father  buried 
there  ?  Were  there  brothers,  sisters,  lying  under  that 
huge  mound  ?  Could  the  sands,  if  they  could  speak, 
tell  her  who  she  was,  her  name  and  people?  Could 
they,  if  they  would,  make  known  to  her  relatives  and 
friends  of  her  own  blood  ? 

Coming  slowly  down  the  shoulder  of  the  drift  she 
went  around  to  the  foot  of  the  steep  eastern  side  and 
there,  in  the  lee  of  the  billow  that  curled  high  above 
her,  she  tried  to  dig  with  her  hands  a  tiny  hole.  At 
every  movement  that  displaced  a  handful  of  sand,  a 
dry  golden  flood  poured  down  from  above,  covering 
instantly  the  mark  she  had  made.  With  sudden 
energy  the  young  woman  exerted  all  her  strength, 
digging  faster  and  faster.  But  still,  from  above  her 

286 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

head,  down  the  steep  side  of  the  drift  the  sand  slid 
without  effort,  making  a  faint  whispering  sound  as 
if  to  mock  her  labors.  Then  Texas  called  and  she 
went  back  to  him,  her  brown  eyes  hard  and  dry. 

The  old  plainsman,  quick  to  feel  her  mood,  would 
have  driven  swiftly  on  past  the  remaining  scenes  of 
the  tragedy  and  tried  to  talk  of  other  things.  But  she 
would  not  have  it  so.  She  must  know  all.  So  he 
showed  her  where  he  had  first  found  the  tracks  in  the 
sand  and  then  where  the  baby  feet  had  left  their 
marks  when  the  tired  mother  had  set  her  down  to 
rest. 

Thus  they  came  at  last,  when  the  day  was  almost 
gone,  to  the  grave  beside  the  trail — the  trail  that 
had  beside  its  many  miles  so  many  graves.  And 
Barbara  stood  before  the  simple  headstone  that  bore 
only  the  date  and  one  word  "Mother."  And  the 
silent  man,  who  had  in  his  wild  adventurous  life 
witnessed  so  many  scenes  of  death,  turned  away  his 
face  that  he  might  not  see  the  girl  kneeling  beside 
the  mound  of  earth. 

When  Barbara,  coming  back  to  the  buckboard,  saw 
him  so,  she  understood;  and  when  Texas,  hearing 
her  light  steps,  turned  quickly  toward  her  he  saw 
the  brown  eyes  filled  now  with  softening  tears  while 
her  face  expressed  the  gratitude  she  could  not  put 
into  words. 

Behind  them  the  upper  rim  of  the  sun  shone 
blood-red  above  the  top  of  the  purple  mountain  wall ; 
over  their  heads  in  the  soft  still  depths  of  the  velvet 
sky  an  early  star  appeared.  Around  them  on  every 
side  the  great  desert  lay  under  its  seas  of  soft 

28T 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

color,  its  veils  of  misty  light  and  streaming  scarfs 
of  lilac  and  rose.  Even  as  they  looked  the  dusk  of 
twilight  fell  upon  the  great  plain.  The  ground-owl's 
weird  call  came  from  a  hummock  near  the  trail,  the 
ghostly  form  of  a  coyote  slipped  stealthily  past  like 
a  shadow  moving  from  shadow  to  shadow  until  he 
was  lost  in  the  deeper  shade,  out  of  which,  as  if 
in  mocking  challenge  of  a  spirit  band  to  any  mortal 
who  would  follow,  came  the  wild,  snarling,  unearthly 
cries  of  his  invisible  mates.  And  still  to  the  east 
ward  the  higher  levels  of  the  Mesa  above  the  rim  of 
the  dark  Basin,  the  slow  drifting  clouds  of  dust  that 
lifted  from  the  tired  feet  of  the  grading  teams  coming 
into  the  camp  from  the  day's  work  on  the  canals,  or 
from  freighters  drawing  near  their  journey's  end, 
caught  the  last  of  the  light  and  showed  long  level 
bands  and  bars  and  threads  of  gold  against  the  deep 
purple  of  the  hills  beyond,  whose  peaks  and  domes 
and  ridges  were  flaming  crimson,  burnished  copper 
and  gleaming  silver  on  the  deep  background  of  the 
sky.  Before  them  on  the  other  side  of  the  deep  Dry 
River  channel,  through  which  now  a  generous  stream 
of  water  flowed,  they  could  see  the  tents  of  the  camp 
— some  glowing  brightly  from  lights  within,  others 
showing  mere  spots  of  dull  white  in  the  gloom,  while 
here  and  there  lanterns,  like  great  fireflies,  flitted 
aimlessly  to  and  fro. 

Before  two  tent  houses,  some  distance  apart  from 
the  main  camp  and  built  under  a  wide  ramada  made 
of  willow  poles  and  arrow  weed  brought  from  the 
distant  river,  Texas  stopped  his  team.  From  the 
open  door  of  one  of  the  tents  Jefferson  Worth  came 

288 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

quickly,  at  the  sound  of  their  arrival,  to  receive  his 
daughter,  and  from  her  father's  arms  Barbara  turned 
to  greet  Abe  Lee  who,  following  his  chief  from  the 
canvas  house,  had  paused  a  little  back  from  the 
group  in  the  shadow  of  the  ramada.  Later  in  the 
evening,  when  Barbara  had  had  her  supper  with  her 
father  and  Abe  in  the  big  camp  dining  tent  and  the 
three  were  sitting  in  the  dark  under  the  wide  brush 
porch,  Pat  came  with  Texas,  as  the  big  Irishman 
said,  "to  see  how  the  new  boss  liked  her  quarters." 
And  then  Pablo  came  softly  out  of  the  darkness  with 
his  guitar  to  bid  La  Senorita  welcome  and  to  ask  if 
she  would  care  that  night  to  listen  a  little  to  the 
music  that  he  knew  she  loved. 

So  Barbara  held  her  little  court  before  the  rude 
tent  house  under  the  arrow  weed  ramada,  in  the  heart 
of  her  Desert,  within  a  stone's  throw  of  the  spot 
where  they  had  gathered  once  before  around  a  baby 
girl  whose  mother  lay  dead  beside  a  dry  water  hole. 
And  not  one  of  them  thought  of  the  significance  of 
the  group  or  how  each,  representing  a  distinct  type, 
stood  for  a  vital  element  in  the  combination  of  human 
forces  that  was  working  out  for  the  race  the  reclama 
tion  of  the  land.  The  tall,  lean,  desert-born  surveyor, 
trained  in  no  school  but  the  school  of  his  work  itself, 
with  the  dreams  of  the  Seer  ruling  him  in  his  every 
professional  service;  the  heavy-fisted,  quick-witted, 
aggressive  Irishman,  born  and  trained  to  handle  that 
class  of  men  that  will  recognize  in  their  labor  no 
governing  force  higher  than  the  physical;  the  dark- 
faced  frontiersman,  whom  the  forces  of  nature, 
through  the  hard  years,  had  fashioned  for  his 

289 


THE  WI^JSTI^G  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

peculiar  place  in  this  movement  of  the  race  as  truly 
as  wave  and  river  and  wind  and  sun  had  made  The 
King's  Basin  Desert  itself;  the  self-hidden  financier 
who,  behind  his  gray  mask,  wrought  with  the  mighty 
force  of  his  age — Capital;  and  a  little  to  one  side, 
sitting  on  the  ground,  reclining  against  one  of  the 
willow  posts  that  upheld  the  arrow  weed  shelter,  dark 
Pablo,  softly  touching  his  guitar,  representing  a 
people  still  far  down  on  the  ladder  of  the  world's 
upward  climb,  but  still  sharing,  as  all  peoples  would 
share,  the  work  of  all ;  and,  in  the  midst  of  the  group, 
the  center  of  her  court — Barbara,  true  representative 
of  a  true  womanhood  that  holds  in  itself  the  future 
of  the  race,  even  as  the  desert  held  in  its  earth  womb 
life  for  the  strong  ones  whom  the  slow  years  had 
fitted  to  realize  it. 

"Faith,"  said  Pat,  when  Pablo's  guitar  was  silent 
for  a  little,  aav  only  the  Seer  was  here  the  family 
wud  be  altogether  complete." 

"Dear  old  Seer,"  said  Barbara  softly.  "How  he 
would  love  to  be  here;  and  how  we  would  love  to 
have  him !" 

But  under  cover  of  the  darkness  a  warm  blush 
colored  the  young  woman's  cheeks,  for  when  Pat 
spoke  she  had  not  been  thinking  of  the  absence  of 
her  old  friend,  but  wishing  for  the  presence  of  an 
other  engineer,  who  also  was  working  for  the  reclama 
tion  of  her  Desert  and  who  was  himself  in  turn  being 
wrought  upon  by  his  work,  learning  as  the  girl  had 
hoped  he  would  learn,  the  language  of  the  land. 

Jefferson  Worth  spoke  in  his  exact  way.  "Even  if 
he  is  not  here  this  is  all  the  Seer's  work." 

290 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

And  just  then  from  a  distance  up  the  old  wash 
came  the  weird,  unnatural  cry  of  a  coyote.  It  was 
as  though  the  spirit  of  the  desert  spoke  in  answer  to 
the  banker's  words. 

"Yell,  ye  sneakin',  thievin'  imp.  Yer  time  in 
this  counthry  is  about  up !"  exclaimed  the  Irishman 
with  a  growl  of  deep  satisfaction.  And  again  out  of 
the  shadow  the  soft,  plaintively  sweet  music  of 
Pablo's  guitar  floated  away  on  the  still  darkness  of 
the  night. 


291 


CHAPTER  XX. 
WHAT  THE  STAKES  REVEALED. 

|  AMES  GREENFIELD,  returning  to  Kings 
ton  from  his  tour  of  inspection,  left  at  once 
for  his  own  world — a  world  of  offices  with 
mahogany  furniture,  of  men  with  white  collars  and 
pale  faces,  of  banks  and  trust  companies,  and  Good 
Business. 

The  afternoon  of  the  day  he  left,  Willard  Holmes 
rode  into  the  camp  at  Dry  River  Crossing.  The 
engineer  explained  that  he  was  looking  over  the 
route  of  a  new  main  canal  that  was  being  surveyed 
by  his  men  and  that,  finding  himself  in  the  vicinity 
of  Mr.  Worth's  headquarters,  he  had  taken  the  oppor 
tunity  to  call. 

From  Barbara  as  well  as  from  Jefferson  Worth 
and  Abe  Lee  the  Company  man  received  a  hearty 
welcome  with  a  cordial  invitation  to  ride  with  them 
the  next  day  over  the  line  of  their  work.  Although 
Holmes  watched  with  peculiar  sensitiveness,  there 
was  no  sign  from  either  of  the  three  that  they  had 
yet  discovered  the  real  significance  of  the  South 
Central  deal  or  that  they  knew  the  part  he  had 
played  in  it.  His  desire  to  end  the  whole  unpleasant 
situation  by  going  over  the  work  with  Mr.  Worth 
and  the  surveyor,  and  by  confessing  to  Barbara  how 
he  had  permitted  her  father  to  walk  into  the  trap,  led 
him  to  accept  the  invitation. 

292 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

The  little  party  left  camp  early  the  next  morning 
and  following  the  line  of  Black's  survey  found  a 
mile  or  more  of  the  canal  already  completed,  while 
a  large  force  of  men  and  teams  was  at  work  clearing 
the  ground  and  pushing  the  big  ditch  still  farther  in 
a  general  southerly  direction  toward  the  Company 
canal  fifteen  miles  away. 

Abe  Lee  explained  to  Barbara  that  other  camps 
were  located  at  points  farther  on,  thus  dividing  the 
whole  district  to  be  excavated  into  several  sections. 
"You  see/'  he  said  turning  to  Holmes,  "the  waste 
from  Dry  River  Heading  coming  down  the  old  chan 
nel  gives  us  water  at  several  points  so  that  we  can 
handle  this  work  to  a  little  better  advantage  than  we 
used  to  do  with  the  first  of  the  Company  canals." 

"I  see,"  said  the  Company  man.  "And  how  many 
head  of  stock  are  you  working  ?" 

"About  fifteen  hundred  now,  but  we  are  increasing 
the  force  right  along.  We  expect  to  handle  about 
twice  that." 

Instantly  Willard  Holmes  saw  that  he  could  still 
save  Jefferson  Worth  from  heavy  financial  loss.  But 
it  was  to  the  interest  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company  for  Jefferson  Worth  to  lose 
heavily.  What  should  he  do  ? 

They  had  left  the  first  section  of  the  work  now 
and  were  following  the  line  of  the  survey  where 
the  brush  had  been  roughly  cleared.  The  engineer, 
preoccupied  in  his  struggle  with  the  question  that 
confronted  him,  had  dropped  behind  the  others,  when 
suddenly  Barbara,  looking  back,  checked  El  Capitan. 
"What's  the  matter,  Mr.  Holmes  ?"  she  called. 

293 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  others  also  looked  back  to  see  the  engineer 
kneeling  on  the  ground.  Jefferson  Worth  glanced 
quickly  at  his  superintendent  who  chuckled  outright. 

"What  is  it?"  cried  Barbara  at  Abe's  unusual 
laugh.  "What's  the  joke  ?" 

Before  either  of  the  men  could  answer,  Holmes 
sprang  to  his  saddle  and,  with  a  quick  jab  of  his 
spurs  in  the  horse's  flanks,  rejoined  them  on  the  run. 
In  his  excitement  the  mental  habits  of  his  life  as 
serted  themselves  and  he  was  again  the  typical  cor 
poration  official  dealing  with  a  mere  private  indi 
vidual  operating  on  a  small  scale.  "Look  here !"  he 
burst  forth  sharply  to  Abe ;  "these  are  not  our  Com 
pany  stakes.  You  are  not  following  Black's  line." 

The  surveyor  grinned.  "We  followed  it  for  a 
half  mile  this  side  of  the  cut,  then  we  branched  off. 
You  evidently  did  not  notice." 

"Where  do  you  strike  it  again  ?" 

"We  don't  strike  it  again." 

"Then  how  do  you  get  to  the  intake  location  ?" 

"We  don't  get  to  the  intake  you  located  at  all.  We 
strike  your  canal  three  miles  farther  up." 

The  Company's  chief  engineer  retorted  hotly: 
"But  you  can't  do  that.  Our  survey  shows" — he 
stopped. 

"Your  survey  shows  what  ?"  came  Abe  Lee's  sharp 
challenge.  "You  are  undoubtedly  familiar  with  the 
data  turned  in  by  your  man  Black,  for  you  told  Mr. 
Worth  the  quality  of  the  soil  before  he  closed  the 
deal.  What  else  does  your  survey  show?" 

Before  the  engineer  could  answer,  Jefferson 
Worth's  cool  voice  broke  in.  "You  understand,  Mr. 

294 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

Holmes,  that  there  is  nothing  in  my  contract  with 
your  Company  that  binds  me  to  follow  the  line  of 
your  survey  or  accept  your  location  of  the  intake. 
The  Company  contracts  to  deliver  the  water  into  my 
canal,  that  is  all." 

The  engineer  regained  control  of  himself.  "I  beg 
your  pardon,  Mr.  Worth;  and  yours,  Lee.  I  forgot 
myself.  I  see  that  my  man  Black  made  a  mistake." 

Abe  laughed  dryly.  "In  checking  over  Black's 
work,  Holmes,  I  found  his  elevations  correct  at  every 
point." 

Holmes  himself  smiled  as  he  said:  "Well,  Lee, 
whether  you  believe  me  or  not,  I  am  very  glad  you 
checked  over  Black's  work,  and,  Mr.  Worth,  with  all 
my  heart  I  wish  you  success  in  your  project." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Worth,  "I  am  already  indebted 
to  you  for  a  valuable  piece  of  information." 

"Indebted  to  me ?" 

"You  remember  what  I  asked  you  when  I  was 
going  over  this  proposition  with  Greenfield  and  Burk 
in  the  Company  office  ?" 

"I  remember  that  you  asked  me  about  the  soil  in 
the  district." 

"You  answered  that  the  soil  was  all  right." 

Holmes  drew  a  long  breath.  "And  you  let  LTncle 
Jim  and  Burk  think " 

"I  let  them  think  what  they  wanted  to  think," 
said  Jefferson  Worth. 

Barbara,  who  had  listened  with  intense  interest  to 
the  conversation,  at  Holmes's  unfinished  remark  and 
her  father's  reply  moved  El  Capitan  slowly  away 
from  his  place  beside  Worth's  horse  and  went  close 

295 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

to  Abe  Lee.  All  the  gladness  was  gone  from  the 
young  woman's  face  now,  and  while  she  maintained 
a  show  of  interest  it  was  plainly  forced. 

The  banker,  at  his  daughter's  movement,  retreated 
behind  his  gray  mask  and  for  the  rest  of  the  trip 
spoke  only  when  it  was  necessary,  leaving  her  entirely 
to  the  surveyor  and  Willard  Holmes. 

Barbara  had  understood  from  the  talk  of  the  men 
that  her  father,  by  using  the  unsuspecting  engineer, 
had  in  some  way  shrewdly  gained  a  business  advan 
tage  over  the  Company.  The  incident  forced  her,  as 
she  thought,  to  see  with  a  cruel  clearness  that  to 
Jefferson  Worth  this  splendid  work  of  reclaiming  the 
desert  was  nothing  but  the  opportunity  to  win  larger 
financial  gains ;  that  he  was  still  practicing  the  tactics 
for  which  he  was  famous.  She  shrank  from  him 
unconsciously  but  to  the  man  as  plainly  as  she  had 
drawn  back  in  fear  that  night  years  before.  As  the 
baby  had  turned  from  him  to  the  Seer  then,  the 
young  woman  turned  from  him  to  Abe  Lee  now. 

During  the  rest  of  the  day  Barbara  kept  so  close 
to  the  surveyor's  side  that  Willard  Holmes  had  no 
opportunity  to  talk  with  her  alone,  and  when  they 
arrived  again  at  the  headquarters  camp  the  engineer, 
promising  to  call  upon  her  soon  in  Kingston,  left  for 
one  of  his  own  camps  a  few  miles  away. 

That  evening  Jefferson  Worth  and  his  daughter 
sat  alone  under  the  arrow  weed  ramada  facing  the 
river.  Moving  her  camp  chair  closer  in  the  dusk — so 
close  that,  reaching  out  she  laid  her  warm  young 
hand  on  the  hand  of  her  father— Barbara  said  in  a 


296 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

low  tone:     "Daddy,  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  all 
about  this  South  Central  District  business." 

She  felt  the  slim  nervous  fingers  move  uneasily. 
Never  before  had  Barbara  asked  him  to  explain  any 
of  his  transactions.  The  man's  habit  of  retiring 
behind  that  gray  mask  whenever  the  subject  of  his 
business  was  mentioned,  together  with  the  girl's  in 
stinctive  shrinking  lest  his  answers  to  such  a  question 
should  drive  them  farther  apart,  prevented.  But 
to-night,  perhaps  because  Willard  Holmes  was  con 
cerned,  perhaps  because  of  her  peculiar  interest  in 
the  work  involved,  Barbara  forced  herself  to  ask. 

"What  do  you  want  to  know?" 

At  his  expressionless  tone  it  was  to  Barbara  as 
though  she  felt  the  chill  of  his  cold  mask  coming 
between  them,  but  she  persisted  and  in  her  voice 
was  passionate  earnestness.  "I  want  to  know  all 
about  it,  father;  I  must." 

"Why?" 

"Because" — she  hesitated.  "Because  I  understood 
from  the  conversation  to-day  about  the  surveys  that 
someone  had  made  a  mistake.  I — I  don't  want  to 
make  a  mistake,  daddy.  Won't  you  please  explain 
it  all  to  me  ?  What  was  it  that  you  let  Mr.  Greenfield 
and  Mr.  Burk  think  ?" 

Perhaps  because  of  the  memories  of  the  place,  or 
because  it  was  the  first  time  Barbara  had  ever  sought 
an  explanation,  or  again  perhaps  it  was  because  Wil 
lard  Holmes  was  interested,  Jefferson  Worth 
answered :  "I  let  them  think  I  was  a  fool." 

"But  why  was  Mr.  Holmes  so  excited  to-day  when 
he  found  out  about  those  stakes  ?" 

297 


THE  WIXtfltfG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"He  discovered  that  I  was  not  such  a  fool  as  they 
thought." 

Then  Jefferson  Worth  explained  to  the  girl  the 
whole  situation.  He  made  clear  Greenfield's  reason 
for  offering  him  the  water  rights ;  why  he  would  have 
taken  the  stock  without  investigation  but  for  the 
hint  he  received  from  the  Company  engineer's  man 
ner  and  the  way  Holmes  had  answered  that  simple 
question  about  the  soil ;  how  he  had  made  the  survey 
secretly,  because  Greenfield  would  have  refused  to 
close  the  deal  if  he  had  known  that  Worth  wanted 
it  after  he  had  it  investigated,  and  because  if  Green 
field  believed  the  district  stock  to  be  valueless  he 
would  sell  at  a  very  low  figure  rather  than  not  sell  at 
all ;  and  how  it  was  that  same  low  figure  that  enabled 
him  to  give  the  men  who  were  working  on  the  canal 
a  chance  to  acquire  farms  of  their  own. 

When  he  had  made  it  all  plain,  the  young  woman 
exclaimed:  "And  this  man  Greenfield  and  those 
with  him  in  the  Company  are  the  men  who  are  doing 
the  Seer's  work;  who  are  making  the  reclamation  of 
the  desert  possible !  I  don't — I  can't  understand  it." 

"It  is  a  very  simple  business  deal,"  said  Worth. 
"There  is  nothing  unusual  about  it.  Greenfield  and 
his  men  are  good  men;  they  are  simply  defending 
their  interests  from  a  competitor.  This  Desert  never 
could  be  reclaimed  at  all  without  them  or  others  like 
them." 

"Tell  me  again,  daddy;  was  Mr.  Holmes  sure  that 
this  land  was  worthless?" 

"Certainly  he  was  sure  of  it.  He  had  all  of  Black's 
data  giving  the  elevations." 

298 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"And  he  knew  that  they  were  trying  to  sell  it  to 
you?" 

"Yes." 

"But  did  he  know  why?  Did  he  know  it  was  a 
trap  to  ruin  your  work  ?" 

"Certainly,  he  must  have  known." 

The  girl's  voice  trembled.  "Oh,  why: — why  didn't 
he  tell  you  ?  Why  didn't  he  warn  you  ?" 

"He  did." 

"Yes,  daddy,  but  he  did  not  intend  to  do  it,  for 
to-day  he  did  not  know  that  he  had  until  you  ex 
plained.  And  I  thought — I  thought "  Her 

voice  ended  in  a  sob. 

"But  Barbara,  Holmes  did  just  what  he  should 
have  done.  He  is  in  the  employ  of  the  Company. 
He  had  no  right  to  interfere  with  their  business." 

"Every  man  has  a  right  to  be  a  man,"  she  answered 
hotly.  "Abe  wouldn't  have  kept  still.  The  Seer 
would  not  have  helped  them  in  their  schemes.  I 
don't  wonder  that  the  Company  discharged  the  Seer 
to  give  Mr.  Holmes  his  place!" 

Jefferson  Worth  was  silent  for  a  little,  then  he 
said:  "If  I  had  thought  that  you  would  blame 
Holmes  I  never  would  have  told  you." 

"But  you  did  right  to  tell  me.  I  am  glad,  for  I 
see  now  that  I  was  making  a  mistake — that  I  was 
making  two  mistakes.  I  misjudged  you,  daddy- 
forgive  me;  and  I — I  have  been  mistaken  about  Mr. 
Holmes." 

For  an  hour  or  more  the  two  sat  silent,  the  mind  of 
each  occupied  with  thoughts  that  were  much  the 
same.  Barbara  for  the  first  time  felt  that  she  could 

299 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

enter  fully  into  her  father's  life.  She  had  at  last 
seen  behind  his  gray  mask  and  found  herself  in  full 
sympathy  with  him.  And  the  lonely  man  knew  that 
at  last  he  had  gained  that  for  which  his  heart  hun 
gered — the  fullest  companionship  of  the  girl  he  loved 
as  his  only  child. 

At  last  Barbara  said  softly:  "Daddy,  I  am  not 
going  back  to  Kingston  to-morrow.  I  am  going  to 
stay  here  with  you.  You  can  have  another  tent  house 
built  and  Texas  can  go  for  Ynez  who  will  bring  what 
things  I  need.  I  am  going  to  make  a  home  for  you. 
You  need  me,  daddy.  You  are  so  alone  in  your 
work ;  no  one  understands  you  as  I  do  now.  Let  me 
come  and  help  you." 

Awkwardly  Jefferson  Worth  put  out  his  hand  and 
drawing  his  daughter  closer  said  in  a  tone  that  Bar 
bara  had  never  heard  before:  "I  was  wishing  that 
you  would  want  to  stay.  You — you  are  not  afraid 
of  me  now,  Barbara  ?" 

"Why,  no,  of  course  not;  what  a  strange  thing  to 
ask !  I  have  never  been  afraid  of  you ;  why  should 
I  be  ?" 

And  Barbara  thought  that  she  spoke  truly — that 
she  had  never  feared  him;  though  Jefferson  Worth 
knew  better. 

So  another  tent  house  was  built  and  Texas  went 
alone  to  Kingston,  to  return  with  Ynez  as  Barbara 
had  planned,  and  the  young  woman  set  about  making 
a  home  for  her  father  in  the  rude  desert  camp. 

Every  day  nearly  she  rode  El  Capitan  out  to  some 
part  of  the  work,  and  the  men  who  were  toiling  for 
more  than  wages  learned  to  know  her  and  to  hail 

300 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

her  presence  as  a  good  omen.  Many  a  rough  fellow, 
dreaming  of  wife  or  sweetheart  and  the  home  he 
would  make  for  them  in  the  desert  as  he  drove  his 
team  and  held  the  bar  of  his  Fresno,  worked  the 
harder  for  a  cheery  word  from  the  daughter  of  his 
employer. 

And  every  evening  under  the  ramada  Barbara  sat 
with  her  father,  often  alone,  sometimes  with  one  or 
more  of  her  little  court ;  and  always  the  talk  was  of 
the  work,  save  for  the  times  when  Pablo  would  come 
softly  to  make  music  for  his  Senorita  and  then  they 
would  sit  silently,  listening  to  the  sweet  harmonies 
that  floated  away  into  the  night. 

Often  Barbara  would  go  the  short  distance  from 
the  house  to  the  old  wash ;  there  to  sit  almost  on  the 
very  spot  where  her  mother  had  perished  beside  the 
dry  water  hole;  and  watching  the  stream  that  now 
flowed  through  the  old  channel,  or  looking  away 
across  the  deep  cut  to  the  sand  hills  that  showed 
clearly  in  the  distance,  she  would  live  over  the  story 
as  she  had  learned  it  that  day  with  Texas — asking 
the  old,  old  question,  to  which  there  was  still  no 
answer. 

One  afternoon  as  she  was  sitting  there,  two  wagons 
with  a  small  party  of  men  appeared  on  the  high  bank 
of  the  stream  opposite.  As  the  men  climbed  down 
from  their  seats,  someone  on  horseback  rode  to  the 
edge  of  the  cut  and  sat  for  a  moment  looking  across. 
Even  at  that  distance  she  knew  him ;  it  was  Willard 
Holmes.  Watching  she  saw  him  turn  and  by  his 
motions  guessed  that  he  was  giving  some  instructions 
to  the  men.  Then  he  rode  away  toward  the  Crossing. 

301 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

Quickly  Barbara  returned  to  the  rude  porch  of  the 
tent  house  and  in  a  few  minutes  saw  the  engineer 
approach.  Dismounting  and  throwing  the  reins  over 
his  horse's  head  he  came  to  her  smiling,  sombrero  in 
hand.  "Buenas  dias,  Senorita.  Please  may  I  have 
a  drink?" 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Holmes;  help  yourself."  She 
pointed  to  the  olla  hanging  in  the  shade  of  the 
ramada. 

The  engineer  started  at  her  cool  reply,  given  as  she 
would  have  addressed  a  stranger,  and,  more  to  regain 
his  composure  than  because  he  was  thirsty,  helped 
himself  from  the  earthen  water  jar.  When  he  could 
delay  no  longer  he  turned  again  to  her,  and  forcing 
himself  to  speak  as  if  he  had  not  noticed  the  lack 
of  warmth  in  her  greeting  said:  "I  was  sorry  to 
miss  you  in  town.  I  called  several  times." 

"I  am  keeping  house  here  for  father,"  she  an 
swered. 

"Then  we  will  be  neighbors,"  he  said  with  assumed 
lightness ;  "at  least  half-way  neighbors.  A  party  of 
my  surveyors  will  be  camped  over  there  across  the 
river.  I  will  be  with  them  part  of  the  time." 

When  she  made  no  reply  to  this,  the  man  under 
stood.  Slowly  he  drew  on  his  gloves  and,  laying 
aside  all  pretense,  said  simply :  "I  have  been  trying 
to  see  you,  Miss  Worth,  because  I  wanted  to  tell  you 
myself  of  the  miserable  part- 1  took  in  the  shameful 
trick  my  uncle  attempted  to  play  on  your  father.  I 
see  that  you  know  all  about  it  and  I  realize  that  it  is 
quite  useless  for  me  to  ask  you  to  forgive  me." 

He  paused,  but  still  the  young  woman  was  silent. 

302 


More  to  regain  his  composure  than  because  he  was  thirsty,  helped  himself 
from  the  earthen  water  jar 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  man  could  not  know  how  she  was  fighting  to 
keep  back  the  tears. 

"You  told  me  plainly  that  you  could  never  forgive 
one  who  was  untrue  to  his  work,"  he  went  on  hope 
lessly,  "and  you  are  right.  There  was  a  time,  before 
I  knew  you,  when  I  would  have  defended  my  action, 
when  I  would  have  held  that  it  was  right;  but  I 

cannot  now.  Perhaps  if  I  had  known  you  longer 

But  what's  the  use.  I  am  a  sad  bungler  in  this  great 
work,  Miss  Worth.  I  am  out  of  place  in  the  big 
desert.  I  should  have  stayed  at  home.  I  wish — I 
wish  you  had  never  wakened  me  to  the  possibilities  of 
life — real  life.  You  would  not  need  to  feel  ashamed 
for  me  now." 

When  she  looked  up  he  was  mounting  his  horse. 
Almost  she  cried  out  to  him,  but  he  rode  quickly  out 
of  her  sight. 


303 


CHAPTER  XXL 
PABLO  BRINGS  NEWS  TO  BARBARA. 

|  LL  through  the  long  hot  months  of  that  second 
summer  Barbara  stayed  in  the  desert  with 
her  father.  Many  times  Mr.  Worth  insisted 
that  she  should  go  to  the  coast  or  the  mountains  for 
a  few  weeks,  while  Abe,  Texas  and  Pat  added  their 
entreaties.  But  the  young  woman's  answer  was 
always — to  her  father:  "If  you  must  stay,  daddy, 
then  I  must  stay  to  take  care  of  you ;"  to  Abe  it  was : 
"Why  don't  you  take  a  vacation?  This  is  just  as 
much  my  work  as  it  is  yours;"  to  Texas  it  was  a 
laughing  question  whether  he  thought  she  was  a 
"quitter,"  and  to  Pat  she  always  declared  that  the 
desert  could  not  in  the  least  hurt  her  complexion. 

"And  look  at  the  other  women,"  she  would  argue. 
There  was  Jack  Hanson's  little  wife,  with  their  chil 
dren,  in  a  twelve  by  fourteen  tent  out  there  on  their 
claim  alone  all  day  and  many  nights,  while  Jack 
was  on  the  work.  And  Mrs.  White,  who  stoutly 
declared  that  she  was  "sure  going  to  stand  by  her 
Jim  if  it  burned  her  to  a  crisp,"  and  that  they  did 
not  have  the  money  to  spend  even  if  they  could  leave 
the  crops  they  had  managed  to  plant.  And  Mrs. 
Rollins  and  Mrs.  Baird  and  Mrs.  Cole  and  the  others, 
who  were  holding  down  their  husbands'  claims  while 
the  men  were  earning  money  on  the  works  to  help 
them  in  getting  their  start.  Surely  if  these  women 

304 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

could  stay  with  their  men-folk  Barbara  could.  So 
Mr.  Worth  let  her  have  her  way.  And  the  other 
three  strove  among  themselves,  with  varied  and  pic 
turesque  figures  of  speech,  and — it  must  be  confessed 
— some  rather  strong  language,  to  express  their  ad 
miration  for  her  courage  and  endurance,  while  all 
four  taxed  their  inventive  powers  to  the  limit  devis 
ing  ways  to  add  to  her  comfort. 

The  work  in  the  South  Central  District  continued 
steadily  with  no  delay  through  lack  of  help,  and 
when  the  canal  was  finished  and  the  water  ready, 
the  men  who  had  built  it  turned  to  making  the 
ditches  on  their  own  claims,  leveling  their  land  for 
irrigation,  preparing  for  the  first  crops  and  making 
what  other  improvements  they  could.  Meanwhile 
the  new  townsite  was  laid  out  on  the  ground  already 
occupied  by  the  headquarters  camp  and  the  camp 
itself  became  the  town  of  "Barba.>; 

But,  perhaps  because — as  Pablo  said — "there  was 
no  Senorita  in  the  Company,"  Greenfield's  chief  en 
gineer  again  found  it  hard  to  hold  his  men  through 
the  hot  months  and  was  obliged  to  discontinue  work 
on  their  Central  Main.  Holmes  himself  spent  the 
weeks  of  the  flood  season  at  the  river,  refusing  to 
leave  even  for  a  day.  Three  times,  when  conditions 
at  the  intake  and  heading  were  most  critical  and  the 
danger  that  threatened  the  unconscious  settlers 
seemed  imminent,  the  engineer  sent  for  Abe  Lee, 
while  Texas,  Pat  and  Pablo  were  instructed  by  Mr. 
Worth  to  be  ready  at  an  hour's  notice  to  move  the 
entire  working  force  of  the  district  to  the  scene  of 
the  expected  disaster. 

305 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

And  still,  even  through  those  trying  times  Jeffer 
son  Worth  continued  his  operations  in  all  parts  of 
the  Basin  and  started  various  enterprises  in  his  new 
town  with  the  conviction  of  a  born  fatalist,  though 
he  almost  constantly  now,  except  when  he  was  with 
Barbara,  wore  that  expressionless  gray  mask.  Abe 
Lee's  thin  face,  burned  dark  by  constant  exposure  to 
the  fierce  desert  sun,  had  a  look  of  watchful  readiness. 
And  Barbara,  seeing,  thought  that  it  was  all  because 
of  the  strain  of  their  own  work,  for  even  Barbara 
was  not  told  of  the  terrible  risk  that  the  Company 
was  forcing  the  pioneers  to  take. 

Meanwhile  James  Greenfield  and  the  Company 
officials,  from  the  outside,  watched  the  situation  with 
the  calmness  of  professional  gamblers  watching  the 
turn  of  the  cards.  Though  he  did  not  come  into  the 
desert  during  the  summer,  the  Company  president 
spent  most  of  his  time  in  the  West  now,  for  the 
Reclamation  project  launched  by  him  was  assuming 
such  proportions  that  his  personal  attention  was  justi 
fied.  Only  one  thing  more  was  needed  to  bring  such 
a  flood  of  land-seekers,  speculators  and  investors  that 
the  Company's  immense  profits  would  be  assured. 
The  new  country  must  have  a  railroad. 

To  this  end,  in  the  city  by  the  sea,  the  eastern 
financier  was  bringing  every  influence  he  could  com 
mand  to  bear  upon  the  officials  of  the  Southwestern 
and  Continental  that  skirted  the  rim  of  the  Basin. 
But  the  great  man  who  shaped  the  destinies  of  the 
S.  &  C.,  secure  in  the  knowledge  that  his  road  con 
trolled  the  only  pass  through  the  range  of  mountains 
that  shut  in  the  new  country,  for  some  reason  refused 

306 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

to  build  a  branch  line  into  the  territory  in  which 
Mr.  Greenfield  was  so  deeply  interested. 

James  Greenfield,  himself  a  power  of  the  first  mag 
nitude  in  the  financial  world,  was  always  admitted  to 
the  presence  of  the  railroad  man  without  delay  and 
was  always  received  by  the  official  with  every  cour 
tesy.  His  statements  as  to  the  extent  and  value  of  the 
lands  that  were  being  developed  by  his  Company, 
with  his  estimates  of  the  volume  of  business  that  a 
branch  line  would  bring  to  the  Southwestern  and 
Continental,  were  received  without  question.  The 
railroad  man  even  betrayed  unusual  interest  in  the 
reclamation  of  The  King's  Basin  Desert,  with  a 
knowledge  of  conditions  almost  as  complete  as  Mr. 
Greenfield's.  Frequently  he  asked  of  Jefferson 
Worth's  operations  and  of  the  development  of  the 
South  Central  District.  But  always  he  shook  his 
head  when  Greenfield  urged  immediate  action.  There 
were  certain  reasons ;  he  was  not  at  liberty  to  go  into 
details.  Some  day  no  doubt  the  branch  line  would 
be  built,  but  he  could  make  no  promises. 

This  was  the  situation  in  the  fall  when,  with  the 
danger  from  the  river  past  and  his  canals  finished, 
Jefferson  Worth  sought  an  interview  with  the  presi 
dent  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Com 
pany  at  his  office  in  the  Coast  city. 

Mr.  Greenfield  received  the  banker  cordially,  con 
gratulated  him  upon  the  success  of  his  South  Central 
District  work  and  prophesied  great  things  for  every 
body  interested  in  The  King's  Basin  project. 

Jefferson  Worth,  behind  his  gray  mask,  at  once 
made  known  the  object  of  his  visit.  He  wished  to 

307 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

secure  from  the  Company  the  right  to  take  water 
from  their  Central  Main  for  a  small  power  house  to 
be  located  in  the  Dry  River  wash.  Mr.  Worth  ex 
plained  frankly  the  advantage  it  would  give  the  new 
town  of  Barba,  in  which  he  was  interested,  and 
stated  that  he  had,  some  time  before,  laid  his  propo 
sition  before  the  Company's  manager  in  order  that 
Mr.  Greenfield  might  be  informed  of  the  matter. 

Greenfield  said  that  he  had  heard  from  Mr.  Burk 
and  that  he  thought  it  might  be  arranged.  Then, 
while  Jefferson  Worth  listened  with  his  usual  careful 
attention,  the  Company  man  set  forth  their  great 
need  of  a  railroad.  And  by  the  way ;  was  Mr.  Worth 
personally  acquainted  with  the  man  who  controlled 
the  S.  &  C.  ? 

"I  know  of  him,"  came  the  cautious  reply. 

"Well,  Mr.  Worth,"  said  the  president;  "I'll  tell 
you  what  we'll  do.  We  need  that  railroad  and  we 
need  it  now.  So  far  I  have  failed  to  get  any  definite 
promise  from  the  S.  &  C.  that  they  will  give  us  a 
branch  line.  If  you  can  secure  a  railroad  for  the 
Basin  this  year,  we  will  give  you  the  right  of  way  for 
your  power  canal  and  a  contract  for  the  water." 

"Is  that  your  only  proposition  ?" 

"That  is  my  only  proposition." 

The  president  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irri 
gation  Company  would  have  been  astonished  if  he 
could  have  witnessed  the  meeting  of  Jefferson  Worth 
and  the  railroad  man  an  hour  later. 

"Hello,  Jeff!"  came  in  hearty  tones  from  the 
official  as  the  door  of  his  private  office  closed  behind 


308 


THE  WIKNHSTG  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

the  banker.  "How  are  you  ?  I  hear  that  Greenfield 
sold  you  a  gold  brick." 

Mr.  Worth  smiled  while  the  other  laughed  heartily. 
"I  tell  you,  Jeff,  we  little  Westerners  have  got  to 
watch  out  for  these  big  eastern  operators  or  they'll 
take  the  whole  blamed  country  away  from  us." 

"The  gold  brick  is  panning  out  pretty  well  so  far," 
said  the  banker. 

"So  I  understand.  Crawford  has  been  telling  me 
all  about  it.  In  fact  the  whole  King's  Basin  propo 
sition  looks  mighty  good  to  me,  except  for  that  New 
York  bunch.  I'm  afraid  of  them,  Jeff.  Greenfield 
has  been  camping  on  my  trail  for  three  months, 
wanting  us  to  build  them  a  branch  line.  I  told 
Crawford  yesterday  that  it  was  about  time  for  you 
to  come  around." 

"When  are  you  going  to  build  that  road?"  asked 
Mr.  Worth. 

The  other  shook  his  head.  "Can't  do  it,  Jeff.  You 
know  the  situation  as  well  as  I.  If  the  river  comes 
in  the  whole  country  will  go  to  smash ;  and  with  the 
class  of  structures  they  have  put  in  to  control  it  and 
with  an  eastern  engineer  in  charge,  it's  too  big  a 
chance.  The  S.  &  C.  is  not  spending  money  to  help 
out  wild-cat  projects  promoted  by  eastern  capital." 

"But  if  you  give  us  the  branch  line  it  will  insure 
the  success  of  the  project,  for  it  will  make  the  Com 
pany  property  so  valuable  that  they  will  spend  more 
money  to  protect  it." 

"Or" — sfdded  the  other — "we  would  have  to  spend 
more  money  to  protect  it.  I'm  sorry  Jeff,  if  that's 


300 


THE  WLNOTNTG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

what  you  have  been  figuring  on,  but  we  are  not  an 
insurance  company — we  are  in  the  transportation 
business." 

"Then  you  won't  build  into  the  Basin  ?" 

"Not  under  existing  conditions,  Jeff." 

With  as  little  show  of  emotion  as  he  would  have 
exhibited  had  he  merely  proposed  to  purchase  a 
morning  paper,  Jefferson  Worth  said:  "All  right, 
then  I'll  build  it  myself." 

The  railroad  man  knew  that  the  quietly  spoken 
words  meant  that  the  banker  had  determined  to  stake 
everything  he  had  in  the  world  upon  a  chance  that 
even  the  S.  &  C.,  with  its  unlimited  capital,  refused 
to  take.  With  his  already  large  investments  in  the 
new  country,  the  building  of  the  railroad  would  tax 
Worth's  resources  to  the  very  limit  and  the  failure 
of  the  Company's  project  would  mean  for  him  finan 
cial  ruin. 

During  the  flood  season  just  past  Jefferson  Worth 
had  seen  the  safety  of  the  Reclamation  work  hanging 
on  a  very  slender  thread.  Every  hour  he  had  looked 
for  the  disaster  that  would  bring  to  nothing  all  that 
had  been  accomplished  by  the  desert  pioneers,  whose 
ruin  he  would  share,  yet  he  calmly  proposed  now  to 
throw  into  the  venture  everything  that  years  of 
unceasing  toil  had  brought  him — his  capital,  his 
credit,  his  reputation. 

"Don't  do  it,  Jeff,"  said  his  friend.  "You  are  in 
deep  enough  now.  Better  keep  an  anchor  to  wind 
ward." 

"I  figured  on  taking  a  chance  when  I  went  into 
that  country,"  said  Worth  simply.  It  was  as  if  he 

310 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

had  foreseen  this  situation  from  the  very  beginning 
and  had  planned  how  he  would  meet  it.  The  railroad 
man's  face  expressed  his  admiration  for  this  display 
of  nerve. 

"If  I  can  do  anything  for  you  let  me  know,  Jeff." 

"Thanks.  If  you  would  just  not  mention  to  any 
one  that  I  am  connected  with  this  for  a  little  while." 

"Oh,  I  see.  Greenfield  again,  I  suppose  ?  What 
are  you  up  to  anyway,  Jeff;  buying  another  gold 
brick?" 

Worth  explained  his  plan  for  a  power  plant  and 
Greenfield's  proposition. 

"Hell!"  exclaimed  the  dignified  official.  "You 
can't  tell  me  that  you  are  going  to  build  a  railroad 
into  Greenfield's  town  just  to  get  a  dinky  little  power 
plant  in  your  own  district.  I'm  not  from  New  York, 
Jeff." 

To  which  Jefferson  Worth  answered  from  behind 
his  mask:  "The  Basin  needs  a  railroad." 

The  next  day  Greenfield  sought  the  railroad  office 
in  haste.  "I  understand  that  you  have  decided  to 
build  that  branch  road." 

The  official,  who  had  received  his  guest  with  the 
dignified  courtesy  befitting  one  of  his  position,  smiled 
at  the  other's  manner  as  a  gracious  sovereign  might 
smile  on  granting  a  subject's  petition. 

Greenfield  accepted  the  smile  as  an  assent.  "May 
I  ask  when  you  will  begin  the  work  ?" 

"I  cannot  say  exactly,  Mr.  Greenfield.  The  survey 
will  probably  be  made  at  once  and  the  work  begun 
as  soon  as  it  is  possible  to  assemble  men  and  ma 
terial." 

311 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

When  The  King's  Basin  Messenger  announced  that 
the  survey  was  being  made  for  a  railroad  from  the 
main  line  of  the  S.  &  C.  at  Deep  Well  to  Kingston,  it 
did  not  mention  the  fact  that  Abe  Lee  was  in  charge 
of  the  work.  And  James  Greenfield,  who  signed  the 
promised  contract  following  the  announcement,  did 
not  learn  until  the  next  issue  of  the  Messenger  that 
the  road  was  not  being  built  by  the  S.  &  C.  but  by 
Jefferson  Worth  himself. 

Quickly  the  news  that  the  railroad  was  building 
into  The  King's  Basin  was  spread  by  the  papers 
throughout  the  surrounding  country  and  from  every 
side  the  swelling  flood  of  life  poured  in.  Every  sec 
tion  of  the  new  lands  felt  the  influence  of  the  rush. 
For  miles  around  the  towns,  every  vacant  tract  was 
seized  by  the  incoming  settlers.  Townsite  companies 
quickly  laid  out  new  towns,  while  in  the  towns 
already  established  new  business  blocks  and  dwellings 
sprang  up  as  if  some  Aladdin  had  rubbed  his  lamp. 
Real  estate  values  advanced  to  undreamed  figures 
and  the  property  was  sold,  re-sold  and  sold  again. 
And  Kingston,  the  heart  and  center  of  it  all — Kings 
ton,  Texas  Joe  said,  "went  plumb  locoed." 

The  name  of  Jefferson  Worth  was  on  every  tongue. 
Was  he  not  the  wizard  who  commanded  prosperity 
and  wealth  to  wait  upon  The  King's  Basin  ?  Was  he 
not  the  Aladdin  who  rubbed  the  lamp  ? 

Horace  P.  Blanton,  who  seemed  to  increase  mag 
ically  as  if,  indeed,  he  fed  on  the  stuff  of  which  booms 
are  made,  did  not  lack  for  audience  now  as  he  talked 
in  rolling  phrases  of  his  friend  Worth  and  what  "we" 
had  done,  with  suggestive  hints  of  still  greater  things 

312 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

that  "we"  again  would  do.  To  see  the  great  Horace 
P.  in  all  the  glory  of  white  vest  and  picture-hat,  as 
he  escorted  parties  of  awe-stricken  newcomers  about 
the  town  and  pointed  out  with  majestic  gestures 
•'our"  opera  house,  "our"  bank,  "our"  power  house, 
"our"  ice  plant,  the  site  of  "our"  new  depot,  was 
an  experience  never  to  be  forgotten.  To  watch  him 
give  orders,  when  Pat  was  not  near,  to  some  laborer 
in  the  grading  gang  at  work  on  the  roadbed  and  yards 
or  to  see  him  instructing  a  merchant  in  the  finer 
points  of  his  business,  was  a  delight.  To  hear  him 
speak  with  authority  upon  every  question  relating  to 
The  King's  Basin  project,  from  the  stage  of  the 
water  in  the  river  two  years  before  the  first  survey, 
and  the  future  plans  of  Jefferson  Worth,  to  the  chem 
ical  properties  of  the  soil,  the  proper  grade  for  irri 
gating  alfalfa  and  the  kinds  and  varieties  of  fruits 
and  vegetables  best  adapted  to  the  climate,  was  as 
instructive  as  it  was  interesting. 

With  the  beginning  of  the  work  on  the  railroad, 
Barbara  and  her  father  again  made  their  home  in 
Kingston,  and  Horace  P.  Blanton,  whenever  he  could 
escape  from  his  arduous  duties,  endeavored  earnestly 
to  make  himself  agreeable  to  Jefferson  Worth's 
daughter.  There  was  no  mistaking  either  his  pur 
pose  or  his  perfect  confidence  in  his  ability  to  achieve 
success.  Many  and  ingenious  were  the  things  that 
three  members  of  Barbara's  court  promised  each 
other  should  happen  to  Horace  P. 

It  was  on  one  of  those  afternoons,  when  the  man 
with  the  white  vest  was  making  himself  very  much  at 
home  on  the  front  porch  of  the  Worth  cottage,  that 

313 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Pablo  riding  in  from  the  South  Central  District 
sought  La  Senorita.  Dismounting  from  his  tired 
horse  the  Mexican,  his  spurs  clanking  on  the  walk, 
approached  Barbara,  and  with  his  sombrero  brushing 
the  ground  greeted  her  in  his  native  tongue,  turning 
an  inquiring  eye  meanwhile  upon  the  portly  Hor 
ace  P. 

Barbara  returned  his  greeting  in  Spanish,  follow 
ing  her  words  in  English  with:  "This  is  Senor 
Blanton,  Pablo.  Mr.  Blanton,  this  is  my  friend 
Pablo  Garcia." 

The  white  man  acknowledged  the  introduction 
with  a  lordly  gesture. 

The  Mexican,  with  a  gleam  of  his  white  teeth 
said:  "I  have  the  pleasure  to  see  the  Senor  some 
times  before.  He  is  what  they  call  'the  booster.'  I 
have  hear  him  talk  many  times  on  street."  Then  to 
Barbara :  "I  am  come  quick,  Senorita,  to  find  Senor 
Worth  or  Senor  Lee.  You  know  if  it  is  far  to  where 
they  are  ?  I  ride  fast.  My  horse  is  tired." 

Before  the  young  woman  could  answer,  the  big 
man,  with  a  voice  of  authority,  said :  "You  will  find 
them  out  on  the  line  of  the  railroad  somewhere 
between  here  and  Deep  Well.  Just  follow  the  grade. 
You  can't  miss  it." 

Pablo  should  have  considered  himself  dismissed 
but,  ignoring  Blanton,  he  waited  for  Barbara's 
answer.  "I  don't  know  just  where  they  are,  Pablo. 
You  had  better  wait  until  they  come  in.  Is  there 
anything  wrong?" 

The  Mexican  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  another 


314 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

glance  toward  her  companion.  "I  cannot  say,  Senor- 
ita.  There  is  no  what  you  call  accident, .  but  I  think 
better  I  come." 

"What  is  it,  my  man  ?"  said  Horace  P.,  again 
interrupting.  "I  will  see  Mr.  Worth  about  it  as 
soon  as  he  comes  in.  You  have  no  business  troub 
ling  Miss  Worth." 

Barbara's  slippered  toe  tapped  the  floor  nervously 
although  Barbara  was  not  a  nervous  young  woman. 

Pablo,  with  another  shrug,  said  coldly:  "It  is  to 
tell  Senor  Worth  or  Senor  Lee  that  I  come.  If  La 
Senor  ita  tells  me  I  trouble  her  that  is  different." 

The  young  woman  spoke.  "Put  your  horse  in  the 
barn,  Pablo,  and  then  come  in.  I  know  you  have 
had  nothing  to  eat  since  morning  and  you  are  all 
tired  out.  Ynez  is  away,  but  I  will  find  something 
for  you  and  you  can  rest  here  until  father  comes." 

Pablo  retreated  and  Barbara  rising,  said:  "You 
will  excuse  me,  Mr.  Blanton." 

"Are  you  going  to  let  that  greaser  spoil  our  after 
noon  ?"  he  asked  in  a  tone  of  offended  majesty. 

The  girl  laughed  outright.  "You  are  so  funny 
when  you  puff  yourself  up  that  way  and  try  to  look 
so  kingly.  Pray  how  is  this  our  afternoon  ?  What  is 
left  of  it  belongs  to  Pablo.  I  am  going  to  find  him 
something  to  eat  and  then  I  mean  to  talk  to  him 
every  minute  until  father  comes.  You  may  stay  if 
you  like,  but  we  shall  talk  in  Spanish." 

The  face  of  Horace  P.  Blanton  expressed  fat 
anguish.  Rising,  he  went  closer  and  stood  over  her 
with  a  look  which  he  imagined  to  be  a  look  of  melt- 


315 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

ing  tenderness  and,  in  a  voice  that  fairly  dripped 
with  honeyed  sweetness,  he  began:  "Miss  Worth — 
Barbara,  I—" 

"Sir!"  If  Barbara  had  shot  the  word  at  him  from 
Texas  Joe's  forty-five  it  could  not  have  been  more 
effective. 

"I — I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Worth,"  he  stam 
mered.  "Certainly,  certainly;  by  all  means,  Miss 
Worth.  Good-by." 

And  that  was  as  near  as  Horace  P.  Blanton  ever 
came  to  achieving  the  success  of  which  he  was  so 
confident. 

A  few  minutes  later  Pablo,  without  hesitation,  told 
Barbara  what  had  brought  him  to  Kingston.  A 
Mexican  friend,  who  worked  for  The  King's  Basin 
Land  and  Irrigation  Company,  had  overheard  a  con 
versation  between  the  Company  Manager  and  the 
chief  engineer,  who  were  together  inspecting  the 
work  on  the  Central  Main  Canal.  Dropping  into  his 
quaint  English,  Pablo  repeated  what  his  friend  had 
told  him. 

"Senor  Holmes  he  say:  'The  canal  will  go  here 
where  the  stakes  are  set.'  Senor  Burk  say :  'No,  you 
shall  go  that  other  way.'  'But  that  will  leave  the 
power  house  away  eight  miles  and  the  elevation  it  is 
not  the  same,'  say  Senor  Holmes.  Senor  Burk  say: 
'Power  house  is  Mr.  Worth's  not  our.  This  way  is 
good  for  us.'  'Senor  Holmes  no  like  it.  He  is  very 
mad,'  say  my  friend.  He  say:  'I  will  not  do  it.' 
Then  Senor  Burk  say:  'All  right,  you  lose  your 
job.  Greenfield  say  it  must  go  there ;  it  is  an  order.' 
Then  they  go  'way  and  my  friend  he  tell  me  'cause 

316 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

he  think  maybe  it  is  no  good  for  power  house.  I 
think  maybe  so  Senor  Worth  like  to  know." 

The  next  morning  Jefferson  Worth  called  upon 
the  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irriga 
tion  Company. 

"Mr.  Burk,  I  understand  that  you  are  changing 
the  line  of  your  Central  Canal." 

"We  are." 

"But  my  contract  with  your  Company  must  be 
considered." 

"We  have  already  considered  it,  Mr.  Worth.  It 
relates  only  to  the  delivery  of  a  certain  amount  of 
water  into  your  canal.  There  is  nothing  in  it  that 
binds  us  to  build  our  canal  on  the  line  surveyed." 


317 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
GATHERING  OF  OMINOUS  FORCES. 


was  a  boiling,  seething,  steaming 
volcano  of  hot  wrath,  burning  indignation 
and  fiery  protest.  Kingston  cursed,  raved, 
stormed  and  resoluted,  then  stormed,  raved  and 
resoluted  some  more.  Kingston  was  tricked,  be 
trayed,  cheated,  defrauded,  insulted  and  mocked. 
And  the  unspeakable  villain,  the  sordid  wretch,  the 
miserable  gamester  who  had  ruined  Kingston  was 
Jefferson  Worth. 

It  is  unknown  to  this  day  who  first  brought  the 
news  that  all  work  on  the  railroad  for  a  distance  of 
seven  miles  out  from  Kingston  was  stopped  and  that 
the  camps  with  their  entire  outfits  had  disappeared, 
leaving  the  scenes  of  their  stirring  activity  as  still 
and  lifeless  as  if  they  had  never  existed.  Next  it 
was  known  that  from  Deep  Well  southward  the  con 
struction  train  was  still  pushing  its  way  into  the 
Basin  and  that  the  work  ahead  of  the  train  went  on. 

Then,  while  Kingston  was  wondering,  questioning, 
discussing,  the  word  went  quickly  around  that  the 
grading  crews  were  setting  up  their  camps  twelve 
miles  east  of  the  Company  town  and  that  a  line  of 
stakes  led  one  way  to  the  town  of  Barba  and  the 
other  way  in  the  direction  to  meet  the  construction 
train  working  out  from  the  junction  with  the  S.  &  C. 
at  Deep  Well. 

318 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Then  the  startled  people  grasped  the  truth  of  the 
appalling  situation  and  awoke  from  their  dream.  In 
the  line  of  the  railroad  survey  that  had  led  to  Kings 
ton  as  straight  as  you  could  draw  a  string,  there  was 
now  a  curve  seven  miles  away,  the  tangent  of  which 
would  carry  it  twelve  miles  east  of  the  Company 
town  and  straight  into  Barba. 

Practically  all  business  ceased,  while  the  citizens 
in  knots  and  groups  discussed  the  situation.  Jeffer 
son  Worth  was  in  the  Coast  city  and  telegrams  to 
him,  all  save  one,  received  no  answer.  To  a  message 
from  Mr.  Burk  he  replied  that  the  line  had  been 
changed  by  his  orders.  As  for  Abe  Lee,  they  might 
as  well  have  questioned  one  of  the  surveyor's  grade 
stakes.  Even  Barbara,  besought  by  the  distracted 
citizens,  could  tell  them  nothing  except  that  her 
father  would  return  Saturday.  There  was  nothing 
to  do  save  to  wait  for  Mr.  Worth  and  to  prepare  for 
his  coming. 

When  the  president  of  The  King's  Basin  Land 
and  Irrigation  Company  arrived  on  the  scene  in 
answer  to  an  urgent  wire  from  his  Manager,  he  was 
at  once  the  center  of  public  interest.  But  Mr.  Green 
field  escaped  quickly  from  the  crowd  at  the  hotel  and 
was  very  soon  closeted  with  Burk  in  the  office. 

Then  a  boy  found  Horace  P.  Blanton.  Horace  P. 
was  not  hard  to  find.  With  the  word  that  Mr.  Green 
field  desired  to  see  him  immediately,  Horace  P. 
Blanton  increased  visibly — so  visibly  that  the  spec 
tators  watched  the  white  vest  with  no  little  anxiety. 

"Tell  Mr.  Greenfield  that  I  will  see  him  imme 
diately,"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  was  easily  heard 

319 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

across  the  street.  Then  Horace  P.  arrived  at  the 
door  of  the  Company  office  a  full  length  ahead  of  the 
messenger. 

An  hour  later,  when  Blanton  reappeared  to  the 
public  eye,  the  white  vest  could  no  longer  be  buttoned 
over  his  expanding  importance  and  beads  of  por 
tentous  dignity  stood  on  his  massive  brow. 

What  did  Greenfield  want?  What  was  the  Com 
pany  going  to  do  ?  the  crowd  demanded  eagerly. 

From  his  lofty  height  the  great  one  answered: 
aOur  Company  president  simply  desired  my  opinion 
and  advice  in  this  little  difficulty.  As  to  what  we 
will  do,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to  make  a  public  state 
ment,  but — "  That  "but"  was  filled  with  tremen 
dous  potential  power. 

"Did  Mr.  Greenfield  know  that  the  change  in  the 
railroad  line  was  contemplated  ?" 

"Certainly  not.  He  learned  of  it  first  from  the 
telegram  that  called  him  to  Kingston." 

"Why  was  the  change  in  the  road  made  ?" 

Horace  P.  Blanton  smiled.  It  was  very  easy  to 
understand  if  they  would  look  over  this  man  Worth's 
operations  since  he  had  been  in  the  Basin.  What 
had  he  done  ?  First  he  had  quietly  invested  heavily 
in  Kingston  real  estate.  Next  he  had  as  quietly, 
through  his  various  companies  and  agents,  gained 
control  of  all  the  public  utilities  in  the  new  country. 
Then  he  had  so  manipulated  things  that  he  gained 
absolute  control  of  the  whole  South  Central  District, 
one  of  the  richest  sections  of  the  Basin,  and  had 
started  the  town  of  Barba  on  land  owned  by  himself. 


320 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

His  next  move  was  to  gain  control  of  the  railroad, 
which,  as  every  one  knew,  was  started  as  an  S.  &  C. 
line.  "Remember,"  said  the  perspiring  master  of 
affairs,  "that  when  this  man  Worth  began  work  on 
the  railroad  into  Kingston,  he  still  owned  a  large 
amount  of  Kingston  real  estate  with  buildings  and 
business  establishments.  To-day  you  will  find  that — 
save  for  the  newspaper,  the  telephone  line,  the  power 
plant,  the  ice  plant,  the  bank  and  his  home — he  does 
not  own  a  foot  of  land,  a  building,  or  a  business 
establishment  in  Kingston.  What  has  he  done  ?  He 
used  the  railroad  to  start  a  boom  in  our  beautiful 
little  city,  then  sold  out  at  an  immense  profit  and 
now,  having  no  further  interest  in  Kingston,  changes 
the  line  of  his  road  to  Barba — the  town  that  he  owns, 
leaving  us  to  make  the  most  of  the  situation." 

The  orator's  impressive  climax  called  forth  from 
every  hearer  furious  invectives  against  the  absent 
financier.  Following  the  announcement  of  the  com 
ing  of  the  road  to  Kingston,  the  name  of  Jefferson 
Worth  had  been  on  every  tongue.  The  same  name 
was  on  every  tongue  now,  but  the  man  that  had  been 
hailed  as  the  good  genius  of  the  reclamation  was  now 
cursed  for  a  selfish  fiend,  who  would  lay  waste  the 
whole  country  for  his  own  greedy  ends. 

Horace  P.  Blanton  exhausted  both  himself  and  the 
English  language  in  a  lurid,  picturesque  and  vigorous 
delineation  of  the  character  of  this  monstrous  enemy 
of  the  race.  It  was  such  gold-thirsty  pirates  as 
Jefferson  Worth  who,  by  preying  upon  legitimate 
business  interests  and  coining  for  themselves  the 


321 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

heart-blood  of  the  people,  made  it  so  hard  for  such 
public  benefactors  as  James  Greenfield  to  promote 
the  interests  of  the  country. 

It  was  beautiful  to  see  how  the  speaker  appreciated 
the  splendid  character,  matchless  genius  and  noble 
life  of  his  friend  Greenfield,  the  distinguished  presi 
dent  of  The  King's  Basin  Company  and  the  father 
of  Reclamation.  Some  day,  he  declared,  the  citizens 
of  the  reclaimed  desert,  looking  over  their  mag 
nificent  farms  and  beautiful  homes,  would  appreciate 
the  work  of  this  man  and  understand  then,  as  they 
could  not  now,  how  he  had  toiled  in  their  interests. 
As  for  this  fellow  Jefferson  Worth,  dark  and  dreadful 
were  the  hints  that  Horace  P.  dropped  as  to  his 
future. 

It  was  Horace  P.  Blanton  who  arranged  for  a 
public  indignation  meeting  in  the  Worth  opera  house 
the  afternoon  of  Jefferson  Worth's  expected  return. 
When  the  day  arrived  Kingston  entertained  the 
largest  crowd  that  had  ever  gathered  within  the  boun 
daries  of  the  town.  For  word  of  the  situation  had 
traveled  throughout  the  Basin,  and  from  every  corner 
of  the  new  country  men  came  to  the  scene  of  the 
excitement  to  attend  the  mass-meeting  and  to  be 
present  when  the  man  that  threatened  Kingston  with 
ruin  should  appear.  Teamsters  left  their  teams  and 
Fresnos  on  the  Company  works,  ranchers  left  their 
crops  and  cattle,  newly  located  settlers  forsook  their 
ditching  and  leveling,  zanjeros  deserted  their  water 
gates  and  levees.  Bold,  hardy,  venturesome  spirits 
these  were,  with  bodies  toughened  by  hard  toil  in  the 
open  air  and  faces  blackened  and  bronzed  by  constant 

322 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

exposure  to  the  semi-tropical  sun,  for  the  desert  did 
not  yield  to  weaklings  who  would  submit  tamely  to 
being  skillfully  juggled  out  of  their  own  by  a  slim- 
fingered  manipulator  of  business.  Under  the  natural 
curiosity  and  love  of  entertainment  that  drew  these 
strong,  roughly  dressed,  roughly  speaking  pioneers 
to  the  point  of  interest,  there  was  an  under-current 
of  grim  determination  to  protect  their  new  country 
from  the  schemes  of  unprincipled  corporations.  It 
was  an  old,  old  story. 

At  the  mass-meeting  there  were  many  vigorous 
speeches  by  hot-headed  ones,  a  masterly  address  by 
Horace  P.  Blanton,  and — because  he  could  not  escape 
this — a  few  words  by  James  Greenfield,  who  was 
introduced  by  Blanton  as  "the  father  of  The  King's 
Basin  Reclamation  work"  and  received  by  the  citizens 
with  generous  applause.  Acting  upon  Greenfield's 
suggestion,  a  committee  was  appointed  to  wait  upon 
Mr.  Worth  immediately  upon  his  arrival  and  the 
meeting  adjourned  until  nine  o'clock  that  evening, 
when  the  committee  would  report. 

As  the  eventful  day  drew  near  its  close,  horsemen 
from  the  South  Central  District  began  to  arrive. 
These  were  the  men  who  had  worked  for  Jefferson 
Worth  on  the  canals  and  who,  through  him,  were  now 
developing  ranches  of  their  own.  These  South  Cen 
tral  men  scattered  quietly  through  the  crowd  and 
soon  in  every  group  there  was  one  or  more  of  the 
new-comers,  listening  attentively.  And  it  was  a  sig 
nificant,  though  in  that  country  an  unnoticed  fact, 
that  every  man  from  Jefferson  Worth's  district  wore 
the  familiar  side-arms  of  the  West.  But  these 

323 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

attentive  ones  took  no  part  in  the  discussions,  speak 
ing  neither  in  defense  nor  in  condemnation  of  the 
man  who  had  so  stirred  the  public  indignation. 

As  the  hour  for  the  arrival  of  the  stage  approached, 
the  crowd  massed  in  front  of  the  hotel,  filling  the 
lobby,  the  arcade  and  the  street,  and  still  scattered 
through  the  throng  were  the  men  from  the  South 
Central  District. 

WThen  the  stage  was  seen  in  the  distance  a  low 
murmur,  like  the  threatening  rumble  of  a  coming 
storm,  arose  from  the  mass  of  men  and,  following 
this,  a  hush  like  the  hush  of  Nature  before  the  storm 
breaks.  Into  and  through  the  strangely  silent  crowd 
the  driver  of  the  six  broncos  forced  his  frightened 
team.  As  the  stage  stopped  and  the  passengers,  look 
ing  curiously  down  into  the  excited  faces  of  the 
throng,  prepared  to  alight,  a  murmur  arose.  The 
murmur  swelled  into  a  roar.  Jefferson  Worth  was 
not  there! 

When  the  main  line  train  discharged  its  Basin 
passengers  at  the  Junction  that  afternoon,  the  engine 
of  the  construction  train  on  the  new  road  brought 
Mr.  Worth  as  far  as  the  rails  were  laid.  Here  Texas 
Joe,  with  a  fast  team  and  light  buckboard,  was  wait 
ing.  So  it  happened  that  while  the  crowd  was  massing 
in  front  of  the  hotel  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  stage, 
Jefferson  Worth  was  at  his  home  quietly  eating  his 
supper  and  reassuring  his  frightened  daughter. 

When  the  assembled  pioneers  learned  from  the 
stage  driver  that  the  man  they  waited  for  had  left 
the  Junction  on  the  engine,  they  were  not  long  in 
arriving  at  the  truth.  The  excitement,  inflamed  by 

324 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

what  seemed  the  fear  of  Jefferson  Worth  and 
increased  by  the  judicious  efforts  of  Horace  P. 
Blanton,  was  intense.  From  an  orderly  company  of 
indignant  citizens  waiting  to  interview  a  public 
man,  the  crowd  became  a  mob  pursuing  an  escaping 
victim.  With  shouts  and  yells  they  started  for  the 
Worth  home.  And  with  them  went  the  quiet  men 
from  the  South  Central  District. 

As  the  sound  of  the  approaching  crowd  reached  the 
two  at  the  table,  Barbara  sprang  to  her  feet,  her  face 
white  with  fear.  "Daddy,  they're  coming.  They're 
coming!"  she  whispered,  trembling  with  anxiety  for 
her  father's  safety.  "Quick!  El  Capitan  is  ready. 
I  told  Pablo  to  have  him  saddled." 

But  Jefferson  Worth,  quietly  sipping  the  cup  of 
black  coffee  with  which  he  always  finished  his  meal, 
returned  calmly :  "Sit  down,  Barbara.  I  won't  need 
El  Capitan  to-night." 

As  he  spoke  the  crowd  arrived  at  the  front  of  the 
house  and,  as  if  to  confirm  his  words,  a  sudden 
peaceful  silence  followed  the  uproar  of  their  coming. 

On  the  front  porch,  in  the  red  level  light  of  the 
sun  that  across  the  desert  was  just  touching  the  top 
most  ridge  of  No  Man's  Mountains,  stood  the  tall, 
grizzly-haired,  dark-faced  old-timer,  Texas  Joe;  the 
heavy-shouldered,  bull-necked  Irish  gladiator,  Pat; 
and  the  lean,  sinewy,  iron-nerved  man  of  the  desert, 
Abe  Lee;  while  quietly  pushing  and  elbowing  their 
way  to  the  front  were  the  men  from  the  South  Central 
District.  ^j>  > 

The  quiet  was  broken  by  the  slow,  drawling  voice 
of  Texas  Joe.  "Evenin'  boys.  What  for  is  the  stam- 

325 


THE  wnsaeiSQ  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

pede?  We-all  trusts  you  ain't  aimin'  to  tromp  out 
the  grass  none  on  Mr.  Worth's  premises." 

Within  the  house  Barbara  and  her  father  heard 
the  drawling  challenge  and  the  color  returned  to  the 
young  woman's  cheeks  as  she  smiled  and  whispered : 
"Good  old  Uncle  Tex." 

There  was  in  that  soft,  southern  voice  an  under 
current  of  such  cool  readiness,  such  confident  mastery 
of  the  situation,  that  her  fears  vanished.  Nor  was 
the  crowd  in  front  slow  to  recognize  that  which 
reassured  Barbara. 

For  a  moment  following  Texas  Joe's  greeting  there 
was  a  restless  shifting  to  and  fro  in  the  crowd,  then 
the  impressive  bulk  of  Horace  P.  Blanton  detached 
itself  from  the  "common  herd."  WTith  hands  up 
lifted  and  a  gesture  of  mingled  command  and  appeal, 
he  called:  "No  violence,  men!  No  violence!  For 
God's  sake  don't  shoot !  Let  me  talk  a  minute." 

Whether  he  appealed  to  the  three  men  on  the  porch 
or  to  the  company  behind  him  was  not  clear,  but 
Texas  answered:  "You-all  has  the  floor  as  usual, 
Senator.  I  don't  reckon  anybody  here  will  be  so 
impolite  as  to  interrupt  your  remarks." 

"Is  Mr.  Worth  at  home  ?" 

"He  sure  is;  altogether  and  very  much  to  home." 

"Could  we — ah — see  him  to  ask  about  a  matter 
that  concerns  vitally  every  gentleman  in  this  com 
pany  ?"  Horace  P.  was  regaining  his  breath  and  his 
poise  at  the  same  time. 

"Mr.  Worth,  just  at  this  minute,  is  engaged  with 
his  daughter  at  the  supper  table.  His  superintendent, 
Mr.  Lee,  is  present  and  will  be  glad  to  hear  what  you 

326 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

have  to  say."  The  exact,  formal  politeness  of  the 
old  plainsman  was  delightful.  In  spite  of  the  gravity 
of  the  situation  several  in  the  crowd  chuckled  audibly. 

"Mr.  Worth  will  see  your  committee/'  said  Abe 
crisply. 

The  citizens  had  forgotten  their  committee.  Horace 
P.  Blanton  had  made  it  difficult  to  remember.  Three 
men  now  came  out  of  the  crowd  at  different  points 
and  went  forward,  James  Greenfield's  orator  fol 
lowing  them  to  the  porch.  But  as  the  men  came  up 
the  steps  Abe  spoke  in  a  low  tone  to  his  companions, 
and  Blanton  found  his  way  barred  by  the  solid  bulk 
of  Pat. 

"Were  you  also  appointed  to  interview  Mr. 
Worth?"  asked  Abe,  dryly.  "I  understood  it  was  a 
committee  of  three." 

"I'm  not  exactly  a  member  of  our  committee,  but 
I'm  always  glad  to  offer  my  services  in  the  best 
interests  of  the  people." 

"Mr.  Worth  will  see  the  committee,"  said  Abe. 

"But  you  have  no  right,  sir —  This  is  an  outrage, 
a  disgrace!  I — " 

A  growl  from  the  Irishman  interrupted  him. 
"That's  just  fwhat  I'm  thinkin'.  The  presence  av 
sich  a  domned  hot  air  merchant  as  yersilf  is  a  dis 
grace  to  any  Gawd-fearin'  company  av  honest  work- 
in'men.  Av  Abe  here  will  only  give  me  lave — " 

Horace  P.  backed  away,  and  from  beyond  reach  of 
those  huge  fists  said  loftily :  "My  friend  Mr.  Worth 
shall  hear  of  this." 

"  'Tis  likely  that  he  will  av  ye  stand  widin  rache 
of  me  two  hands,"  agreed  Pat. 

327 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOBTH 

Horace  P.  backed  farther  away.  "I  shall  let  him 
know  that  I  offered  my  services,"  he  declared  with  all 
the  dignity  he  could  command. 

"Do,"  called  the  Irishman.  "I  think  that  av  ye 
offered  yersilf  chape  enough  he  might  give  ye  a  job 
wid  a  shovel  on  the  grade.  'Tis  mesilf  wud  be 
proud  to  have  ye  in  me  gang  av  rough-necks.  Dom' 
me  but  I  think  I  cud  rejuce  yer  waist  line  to  more 
reshpectable  an'  presintable  deminsions." 

At  this  the  crowd  laughed  outright,  for  not  one  of 
those  hardy  pioneers  but  knew  the  real  value  of 
Horace  P.  Blanton  to  the  reclamation  work  and 
therefore  the  force  of  the  Irish  boss's  remarks. 

While  Pat  and — against  his  will — the  Company's 
representative  were  amusing  the  crowd,  Abe  led  the 
committee  to  Jefferson  Worth.  One  of  these  men 
was  a  prominent  merchant  who,  for  the  first  eight 
months  of  his  business  in  Kingston,  had  occupied  a 
store-room  in  one  of  Worth's  buildings  rent  free. 
Another  was  a  real  estate  man,  whom  the  banker  had 
supplied  with  funds  that  enabled  him  to  make  several 
profitable  deals  that  would  otherwise  have  been  lost. 
The  other  man  was  a  successful  rancher,  who  owned 
a  half-section  of  improved  land  joining  the  townsite. 
Deck  Jordan  had  carried  him  at  the  store  for  imple 
ments,  seed  and  provisions  the  first  two  years. 

Jefferson  Worth  greeted  them  in  his  habitually 
colorless  voice,  and  they — striving  to  see  behind  that 
gray  mask — felt  that  there  might  be  something  in 
the  situation  that  had  not  appeared  on  the  surface 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  situation  had  been  made 
so  clear  by  Horace  P.  Blanton  after  his  interview 

328 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBABA  WOKTH 

with  the  president  of  the  Company.  This  quiet- 
voiced,  calm-faced  man,  who  had  been  so  ready  to 
help  every  worthy  settler  in  the  new  country,  did  not 
appear  at  all  the  monster  in  disguise  that  the  chief 
speaker  at  the  mass-meeting  had  pictured.  The  com 
mittee,  free  from  the  heat  of  the  crowd  and  the 
eloquence  of  Horace  P.,  felt  just  a  little  ashamed. 

"Mr.  Worth,"  said  the  spokesman  with  a  smile, 
"we  were  appointed  to  interview  you  about  this  rail 
road  business." 

"What  do  you  wish  to  know,  Gordon  ?" 

"Well,  first,  is  it  true  that  you  have  sold  out  prac 
tically  all  of  your  property  in  Kingston  ?" 

"Yes.  It  was  my  property."  Jefferson  Worth  did 
not  explain  that  he  had  sold  because  he  was  forced  to 
turn  everything  he  could  into  cash  in  order  to  build 
the  railroad  so  badly  needed  by  the  new  country. 

The  committee  looked  serious.  "Is  it  true,"  con 
tinued  the  spokesman,  "that  you  are  changing  the 
line  of  the  railroad  so  as  to  take  it  to  Barba  and  leave 
Kingston  out  entirely  ?" 

"The  line  of  the  road  is  changed,"  came  the  exact, 
colorless  answer. 

"Will  it  be  possible  to  make  some  arrangement  by 
which  you  would  carry  out  your  former  plan  and 
build  the  road  into  Kingston  ?" 

"You  mean  a  bonus  ?" 

"Yes." 

"I'm  not  in  the  market." 

"Is  there  nothing  that  we  can  do  to  change  the 
situation  ?" 


329 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  answer  startled  the  committee.  "Tell  Green 
field  that  he  had  better  see  me  himself." 

Jefferson  Worth's  relation  to  The  King's  Basin 
Land  and  Irrigation  Company  was  always  a  much 
discussed  question  among  the  pioneers.  The  new 
country  was  settled  by  working  people  of  limited 
means,  and  if  there  is  one  belief  common  to  this  class 
it  is  that  all  capitalists  are  members  of  one  great 
robber  band,  perfectly  organized,  firmly  united  and 
operating  in  perfect  harmony  against  their  helpless 
victim — the  public.  However  much  they  might  fight 
among  themselves  over  the  division  of  the  spoils,  they 
were  a  unit  in  their  common  operations  against  the 
masses. 

From  the  first  Jefferson  Worth  was  held  by  many 
to  be  the  secret  agent,  the  silent  co-partner,  of  Green 
field,  and  the  South  Central  District  seemed  to 
justify  this  opinion,  for  of  course  the  public  knew 
nothing  of  the  inside  of  that  deal.  The  people 
accepted  Mr.  Worth's  personal  assistance  cheerfully, 
thankfully,  and  had  come  to  look  upon  him  as  a 
friend.  But  this  did  not  in  the  least  alter  their  belief 
that  he  belonged  to  the  band.  He  was  simply  a  gen 
erous,  gentlemanly  sort  of  robber,  kin  to  the  hold-up 
man  who  returns  the  railroad  tickets  of  the  passen 
gers  and  refuses  to  rob  the  ladies.  This  railroad 
situation  had  seemed  to  deny  the  relationship  between 
the  banker  and  the  Company,  and  now  came  Worth's 
advice:  "Tell  Greenfield  that  he  had  better  see  me 
himself."  It  was  no  wonder  that  the  members  of  the 
committee  looked  at  each  other  startled  and  bewil 
dered.  Was  it,  after  all,  a  fight  between  the  members 

330 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

of  the  band  over  the  division  of  the  spoils  ?  It  was 
too  deep  for  the  committee.  They  could  feel  dimly 
that  mighty  forces  were  stirring  beneath  the  surface, 
but  they  could  not  fathom  what  it  was  all  about.  One 
thing  was  clear:  the  one  thing  that  is  always  clear 
when  capital  speaks  to  business  men  of  their  class — • 
they  must  obey. 

"What  shall  we  report  to  the  crowd?"  they  asked 
as  they  arose  to  go. 

"I  figured  that  you  would  tell  them  what  I  have 
told  you,"  came  the  answer. 

The  crowd,  when  the  committee  briefly  reported 
their  interview,  were  as  puzzled  as  the  members  of  the 
committee,  and  questioned  and  discussed,  affirmed 
and  denied  until  Pat  said  to  his  companions  on  the 
porch  that  it  sounded  like  "a  flock  av  domned  bumble 
bees." 

When  the  president  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company,  who  dared  not  refuse  the 
request  of  the  committee,  stood  before  Jefferson 
Worth,  the  man  behind  the  gray  mask  forced  him  to 
speak  first. 

"I  understand  you  wished  to  see  me  about  this  rail 
road  matter,  Mr.  Worth." 

"I  told  the  committee  that  you  had  better  see  me," 
came  the  answer  without  a  trace  of  emotion  in  the 
colorless  voice. 

"Well,  I  am  here ;  what  do  you  want  ?" 

"I  want  a  new  contract  from  your  Company  bind 
ing  you  to  build  your  Central  Main  Canal  on  the  line 
of  the  original  survey,  bringing  it  to  a  point  within 
four  hundred  yards  of  the  west  line  of  the  South 

331 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

Central  District  where  the  San  Eelipe  trail  crosses 
Dry  River,  and  agreeing  to  deliver  into  my  power 
canal  without  charge  a  flow  of  three  hundred  second 
feet  of  water,  as  in  the  old  contract ;  and  in  addition 
the  exclusive  power  rights  in  all  of  the  Company's 
canals  in  the  Basin." 

"If  I  give  you  this  contract  you  will  build  the 
railroad  into  Kingston  ?" 

"When  you  change  the  line  of  your  canal  back  to 
the  original  route  I  will  change  the  line  of  my  road." 

"Suppose  I  refuse  ?" 

"My  railroad  will  not  come  into  Kingston  and  I 
will  explain  to  the  crowd  out  there  the  reason.  You 
have  worked  up  a  pretty  strong  public  feeling  against 
me,  Mr.  Greenfield.  Now  make  good  or  stand  in  my 
place  and  take  the  consequences." 

James  Greenfield  was  not  slow  to  grasp  the  point. 
A  simple  explanation  of  the  situation  from  Jefferson 
Worth  with  the  old  contract  to  back  it  up  would  turn 
the  wrath  of  the  people  against  the  Company  presi 
dent.  Rising,  he  said  with  an  oath :  "You  win,  Mr. 
Worth.  I'll  have  the  contract  ready  for  your  signa 
ture  in  the  morning.  Now  what  will  we  do  with  that 
mob  out  there  ?" 

"It  is  your  mob,  Mr.  Greenfield,"  answered  Jeffer 
son  Worth. 

A  few  minutes  later  from  the  front  porch  of  the 
Worth  cottage,  with  Texas  Joe  on  his  right  hand  and 
Pat  on  his  left,  Horace  P.  Blanton  announced :  "Our 
committee  will  report  at  the  opeia  house  in  half  an 
hour." 

The  committee  reported  that  Kingston  was  saved 

332 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

and  the  orator  of  the  day  made  another  speech  so  far 
eclipsing  all  his  former  efforts  that  the  cheering 
citizens  were  evenly  divided  as  to  whether  it  was 
James  Greenfield,  Jefferson  Worth  or  Horace  P. 
Blanton  who  saved  it. 

"Well,  boys/7  remarked  one  of  the  men  from  the 
South  Central  District  as  the  little  party  of  horsemen 
set  out  for  the  long  ride  home,  "one  thing  is  sure. 
Those  Kingston  fellows  have  got  the  railroad,  but  we 
still  have  Jefferson  Worth,  an'  I  reckon  that  Jeff  can 
build  us  a  railroad  any  old  time  he  gets  ready." 

"That's  right,"  returned  another,  "but  what  in  hell 
do  you  suppose  it  was  all  about  ?  What's  Jeff's  game 
anyhow  ?" 


333 


CHAPTEE  XXIII. 
EXACTING  ROYAL  TRIBUTE. 

\"N  spite  of  the  optimistic  view  of  the  man  who 
said  that  Jefferson  Worth  could  build  a  rail 
road  for  Barba  and  the  South  Central  Dis 
trict  whenever  he  wished,  there  was  no  little  disap 
pointment  expressed  in  Worth's  town  when  it  became 
known  that  the  Company  town  was  to  have  the  road. 

When  the  grading  camps  had  returned  to  their 
former  locations  and  the  construction  train  drew 
every  day  nearer  Kingston,  with  the  time  approach 
ing  when  regular  trains  with  passengers  and  freight 
would  ply  to  and  from  the  Company  town,  the  feeling 
of  discontent  in  Barba  grew.  It  even  came  to  be  gen 
erally  understood  throughout  the  Basin  that  the 
whole  movement  had  been  cleverly  planned  by  Jeffer 
son  Worth  to  force  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irri 
gation  Company  to  make  a  large  contribution  to  the 
railroad  builder's  personal  fortune.  The  people  sensed 
something  in  the  whole  transaction  that  they  could 
not  clearly  grasp,  an  intangible,  mysterious  some 
thing,  as  great  as  it  was  indefinite.  They  felt  blindly 
that  they  were  being  used  without  their  consent  in  a 
game  played  by  these  master  financiers,  and  they 
resented  being  sacrificed  as  dumb  pawns  in  a  move, 
the  purpose  of  which  they  could  not  know. 

In  the  meantime,  while  the  people  were  charging 

334 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

him  with  selling  them  out  to  gain  his  own  ends,  the 
man  whose  purpose  was  known  only  to  himself  was 
putting  into  his  enterprise  the  last  dollar  of  his 
resources,  and  another  flood  season  with  its  appalling 
danger  was  at  hand. 

Because  his  laborers  on  the  railroad  were  not  as 
the  men  who  built  the  South  Central  canals,  working 
for  more  than  their  day's  wage,  and  because,  though 
no  one  knew  it,  Jefferson  Worth's  finances  were  so 
nearly  exhausted,  work  on  the  road,  as  on  the  Com 
pany  project,  was  discontinued  for  the  summer 
months,  to  be  resumed  in  the  fall — perhaps. 

Barbara  again  refused  to  leave  her  father  and  in 
the  close  companionship  and  full  understanding  of 
his  daughter,  the  man,  who  lived  so  much  alone 
behind  his  gray  mask,  found  inspiration  and 
strength. 

The  telephone  now  connected  the  heading  at  the 
river  intake  with  Kingston,  and  every  hour  of  those 
hot  days  and  nights  Jefferson  Worth  listened  for  a 
call  from  Willard  Holmes,  who  also  had  refused  to 
leave  his  work,  while  three  of  the  fastest  saddle  horses 
in  the  Basin  were  stabled  with  El  Capitan.  Texas, 
Abe  and  Pablo  were  ready  to  ride  at  an  instant's 
notice  to  rally  the  pioneers,  who  were  developing 
their  ranches,  building  their  homes  and  planning 
their  future  unconscious  of  the  real  danger  that  hung 
over  them. 

Vague  rumors  of  the  dangerous  condition  of  the 
Company  structures  floated  about  and  there  were  not 
wanting  prophecies  of  disaster.  But  not  one  in  a 
hundred  of  the  settlers  had  even  visited  the  intake 

335 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

at  the  river,  or  if  they  had,  what  could  they  judge 
of  conditions  there  ?  The  settlers  were  ranchers,  not 
civil  engineers.  The  Company  zanjeros  turned  the 
water  into  their  ditches  when  they  asked  for  it ;  their 
crops,  growing  marvelously  in  the  rich  soil,  demanded 
constant  attention ;  they  had  neither  time,  inclination 
nor  ability  to  investigate  every  flying  rumor.  As  for 
the  prophets  of  evil,  only  confirmed  optimists  can 
reclaim  a  desert  or  settle  a  new  country  and  the 
croakers  received  little  attention.  Besides,  the  great, 
all-powerful  Company  would  surely  protect  its  own 
interests  and,  in  protecting  its  own,  would  protect  the 
interests  of  the  settlers.  It  was  the  business  of  the 
Company  engineers  to  look  after  the  river.  The 
ranchers  were  looking  after  the  ranches. 

Thus  another  summer  went  by  and  the  great  river, 
save  for  the  small  toll  taken  by  those  who  were 
reclaiming  the  desert  it  had  created  in  the  ages  of 
long  ago,  continued  on  its  way  to  the  sea.  Its  time 
was  not  yet. 

With  the  return  of  the  cooler  weather  and  the  still 
further  increase  in  the  volume  of  new  life  that  con 
tinued  to  pour  into  the  Basin  from  the  great  world 
outside,  work  on  the  railroad  was  begun  again,  but 
Jefferson  Worth  knew  that  the  first  pay  day  would 
mark  the  end.  He  was  as  a  man  with  his  back  to  a 
wall,  fighting  bravely  to  the  last  blow,  and  he  stood 
alone. 

Among  the  hundreds  of  pioneers  with  whom  Worth 
had  elected — as  he  had  told  Abe  Lee  the  night  of  his 
arrival  in  Kingston — to  take  a  chance,  there  was  not 
one  to  take  a  chance  with  him  now.  If  he  lost  he 


THE  WHnriNG  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

would  lose  alone,  for  those  who  had  built  upon  the 
work  that  he  had  done  would  not  suffer  through  his 
defeat.  Had  any  of  them  known  the  situation  they 
could  have  done  nothing  to  help  him.  But  no  one 
knew,  and  this  was  the  financier's  one  desperate 
chance — that  no  one  did  know,  not  even  Barbara. 

With  his  capital  exhausted  and  no  resources  upon 
which  he  could  realize,  he  went  ahead  with  the  work 
apparently  with  the  confidence  of  one  with  millions 
behind  him.  It  was,  in  the  language  of  the  West,  all 
a  bluff.  But  it  was  a  magnificent  bluff. 

Two  weeks  of  the  month  were  gone  when  a  tele 
gram  from  the  high  official  of  the  S.  &  C.  summoned 
him  to  the  city. 

The  railroad  man,  in  the  secrecy  of  his  private 
office,  greeted  the  promoter  with  his  usual,  "Hello, 
Jeff.  I  see  The  King's  Basin  is  still  on  the  map." 

Jefferson  Worth  smiled,  then,  as  the  official's  eyes 
were  fixed  upon  his  face  in  a  way  that  he  understood, 
he  retreated  behind  his  mask.  "Things  are  going 
very  well,"  he  answered. 

"Working  full  gangs  on  that  railroad  of  yours  ?" 

"We  have  taken  on  all  the  men  we  can  handle.  We 
will  be  ready  for  that  last  lot  of  steel  in  another  two 
weeks." 

The  other  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  laughed  with 
hearty  admiration  and  regard.  "Jeff,  you  are  a 
wonder!  How  long  do  you  suppose  it  would  take 
Greenfield  to  start  something  with  your  creditors  if 
he  knew  what  I  know  ?" 

Not  a  line  of  Jefferson  Worth's  face  changed,  only 
his  nervous  fingers  caressed  his  chin,  and  the  railroad 

337 


THE  WIIOTHSTG  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

man,  noting  the  familiar  signal,  smiled  again.  Then 
leaning  forward  in  his  chair  he  said:  "Jeff,  I  have 
been  keeping  my  eye  on  you  ever  since  those  days 
when  our  line  was  building  into  Rubio  City  and  you 
handled  the  right-of-way  for  us.  I  have  never  caught 
you  in  a  blunder  yet.  When  it  comes  to  sizing  up  a 
proposition  all  around  I  don't  believe  you  have  an 
equal.  Now  look  here."  With  a  quick  movement 
he  took  a  paper  from  a  pigeon-hole  in  his  desk  and 
laid  it  before  the  other.  The  paper  was  a  carefully 
tabulated  statement  of  Jefferson  Worth's  financial 
condition  at  that  moment.  In  vain  the  official  tried 
to  see  behind  that  gray  mask. 

"Well."     The  word  was  absolutely  colorless. 

"Well !"  repeated  the  other  savagely,  "what  I  want 
to  know  is  this :  why  in  hell  you  are  bucking  Green 
field  and  his  crowd  to  such  a  limit  ?" 

"Because,"  said  Jefferson  Worth  carefully,  "I 
believe  in  the  future  of  The  King's  Basin  project, 
providing — "  he  paused. 

"Providing  what  ?" 

"Providing  someone  bucks  Greenfield  to  the  limit." 

In  one  instantaneous  flash,  the  man  whose  clear 
brain  directed  thousands  of  miles  of  a  great  railroad 
system  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  real  Jefferson  Worth 
— the  Jefferson  Worth  who  was  not,  as  the  railroad 
man  had  himself  said,  "doing  it  all  for  a  dinky  little 
power  plant." 

"Jeff,"  he  said  slowly,  "when  you  asked  us  to  build 
a  branch  line  into  the  Basin  I  told  you  that  we 
couldn't  do  it.  As  I  said  then,  we  are  not  in  the 
insurance  business.  A  railroad's  business  depends 

338 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

upon  the  actual  development  of  a  country,  not  upon 
backing  promoters  who  open  up  a  new  country  simply 
as  a  speculative  proposition.  You  say  you  believe 
in  the  future  of  The  King's  Basin  country  providing 
some  one  bucks  Greenfield  and  you  are  sure  giving 
him  a  run  for  his  money.  But  you  have  reached  the 
end  of  your  pile  and  I  know  it.  Now,  I  have  been 
taking  up  this  matter  with  our  people  and  we  are 
ready  to  take  a  chance  on  your  judgment.  Suppose 
we  take  over  your  road  as  it  stands  at  a  fair  price — 
what  would  be  your  next  move  ?  Get  out  and  leave 
us  in  the  insurance  business  ?" 

"I  would  build  a  line  from  Kingston  to  Barba, 
tapping  the  South  Central  District,  which  is  the 
richest  section  of  the  Basin,"  came  the  instant  reply. 

"Good!  But  perhaps  you  don't  want  to  sell  the 
line  you  are  building  to  the  S.  &  C.,"  he  suggested 
with  a  smile. 

"I  figured  that  you  would  be  ready  to  make  me  a 
proposition  about  the  time  I  had  it  in  shape  for  the 
last  shipment  of  steel." 

Worth's  bluff  had  won. 

The  railroad  man  said  again  solemnly :  " Jeff,  you 
are  a  wonder !" 

With  the  passing  of  his  nearly  completed  railroad 
into  the  hands  of  the  S.  &  C.  Jefferson  Worth  began 
at  once  to  arrange  for  the  building  of  the  other  line 
from  Barba  to  Kingston.  This  new  road,  to  be  known 
as  the  King's  Basin  Central,  connecting  with  what 
was  now  the  S.  &  C.,  would  give  an  outlet  to  the  rich 
South  Central  District,  while  the  Southwestern  and 
Continental  Company  announced  that  its  new  branch 

339 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

would  not  stop  at  Kingston  but  would  build  on  south 
to  Frontera. 

With  a  main  line  branch  of  a  trans-continental 
railroad  building  straight  through  the  heart  of  the 
new  country,  and  their  town  located  just  half  way 
between  the  junction  and  the  terminal,  The  King's 
Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  saw  the  valiu- 
of  their  property  increased  many  times.  The  day 
was  not  far  distant  now  when  every  quarter  section 
of  the  desert  land  would  be  filed  on  by  eager  settlers, 
and  the  once  barren  waste  would  rapidly  give  place 
to  the  fertile  fields  of  the  ranchers,  every  foot  of 
which  should  yield  tribute  to  James  Greenfield  and 
his  associates.  But  the  reclamation  of  the  desert 
opened  many  avenues  for  profit  other  than  the  irriga 
tion  system. 

From  these  also  .the  Company,  obeying  the  law  of 
Good  Business,  had  planned  to  take  toll,  but  the  field 
for  investment  most  closely  allied  with  the  fields  of 
the  ranchers,  and  therefore  keeping  even  pace  with 
the  increasing  wealth  of  the  new  country,  had  been 
preempted  by  Jeiferson  Worth.  The  Company 
desired  to  add  to  their  holdings  those  enterprises  that 
had  come  to  be  known  as  the  Worth  interests.  They 
had  failed  repeatedly  to  bring  about  a  union  of  forces. 
Their  only  recourse  then  was  to  force  the  independent 
operator  to  sell  to  them  or  to  eliminate  him  from 
The  King's  Basin  project.  To  this  end  Greenfield 
and  Burk  watched  and  planned  on  the  well  known 
principle  that  whatever  Jefferson  Worth  wanted  was 
bad  for  the  Company,  until  the  day  when  the 
interests  of  Worth  and  those  of  The  King's  Basin 

340 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Land  and  Irrigation  Company  should  be  the  same  or 
Jefferson  Worth  should  be  no  longer  a  factor  in  the 
new  country. 

While  the  Worth  enterprises  were  firmly  estab 
lished  in  all  the  centers  of  activity  in  the  Basin,  the 
Company  knew  that  his  largest  interests  were  in 
Barba  and  the  South  Central  District.  Worth  must 
have  railroad  connections  with  the  S.  &  C.  line  before 
he  could  even  begin  to  realize  on  his  largest  invest 
ments.  There  was  every  reason  why  he  should  desire 
to  make  Kingston  the  junction  point  of  the  road  he 
was  now  forced  to  build.  James  Greenfield  was  not 
backward  in  letting  Worth  understand  that  he  would 
need  to  pay  well  for  a  right-of-way  with  terminal 
facilities  in  the  Company  town. 

For  two  weeks  Jefferson  Worth  tried  to  bring  the 
Company  president  to  some  reasonable  settlement  but 
his  efforts  only  served  to  make  Greenfield  more  deter 
mined  to  exact  royal  tribute.  "I  tell  you,"  said  the 
president  triumphantly  to  his  Manager,  "he's  forced 
to  build  that  line  or  go  to  smash  with  his  town  and 
district.  No  one  will  settle  away  off  there  from  the 
railroad  as  long  as  they  can  locate  in  reach  of  Kings 
ton  or  Frontera,  and  he  has  got  to  connect  with  the 
S.  &  C.  branch  at  Kingston,  for  we  are  the  only  place 
between  the  main  line  and  the  terminal." 

When  Mr.  Worth  reminded  them  that  the  pro 
posed  road  would  benefit  Kingston  and  that  in  view 
of  its  value  to  their  town  it  would  be  only  just  for 
them  to  give  him  the  privileges  he  needed  but  for 
which  he  was  quite  ready  to  pay  a  reasonable  price, 
Greenfield  declared  that  his  Company  had  already 

341 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

given  Worth  quite  enough.  Of  course,  if  they  could 
find  some  basis  upon  which  to  unite  their  interests 
that  would  be  another  matter. 

Then  the  evening  mail  brought  to  Mr.  Worth  cer 
tain  legal  looking  papers  and  the  next  morning  he 
called  again  upon  Mr.  Greenfield.  In  a  spring 
wagon  in  front  of  the  Company  office  Texas  Joe  and 
Abe  Lee  waited  with  a  prosperous  looking  stranger 
who  also  had  arrived  the  evening  before. 

"Mr.  Greenfield,  I  have  come  for  your  final  answer 
on  this  railroad  deal." 

On  Greenfield's  face  there  was  a  smile  of  satisfac 
tion  and  triumph.  There  were  several  reasons  why 
he  enjoyed  seeing  Jefferson  Worth  in  a  corner.  "I 
am  ready  to  listen  to  any  other  proposition  you  have 
to  make,  Mr.  Worth." 

"You  have  the  only  proposition  I  shall  make." 

"Really,  I  fear  that  we  can  do  nothing  this  morn- 
ing." 

The  visitor  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the  office. 

Later,  in  describing  the  interview  to  Willard 
Holmes,  Burk  commented  thoughtfully:  "I  very 
much  fear  your  festive  Uncle  Jim  played  the  game 
a  little  too  fine.  You  can  take  some  things  and  most 
men  for  granted ;  but  a  railroad,  now,  and  Jefferson 

Worth "  he  shifted  his  cigar  to  the  corner  of  his 

mouth  and  cocked  his  head  in  the  opposite  direction. 
"I  think,  Willard,  that  something  is  going  to  hap 
pen." 

What  happened  was  this :  When  Jefferson  Worth 
left  the  Company's  office  he  stepped  into  the  waiting 
rig  beside  the  stranger.  "Go  ahead,  Abe,"  he  said. 

342 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOETII 

Then  the  surveyor  giving  Texas  the  direction,  the 
team  sped  away.  Once  in  the  desert  they  stopped 
occasionally  while  the  surveyor  examined  the  four 
by  four  redwood  stakes.  At  a  point  on  the  S.  &  C. 
four  miles  north  of  Kingston  and  therefore  between 
the  Company  town  and  the  main  line,  Abe  directed 
Texas  to  stop. 

The  surveyor,  taking  a  note  book  from  his  pocket, 
went  to  a  corner  stake  and  indicated  with  out 
stretched  hands  the  direction  of  the  boundary  lines 
of  a  tract  of  land  owned  by  his  employer.  "Here  we 
are,  Mr.  Worth." 

The  place  was  raw  desert  and  except  for  the  rail 
road  without  sign  of  life  save  the  life  of  the  hard, 
desolate  land;  though  in  the  distance  could  be  seen 
the  improved  ranches,  with  Kingston  in  their  midst. 
Standing  on  the  slight  elevation  of  the  railroad  grade 
Jefferson  Worth  looked  around  silently.  Then,  fol 
lowed  by  the  stranger  and  Abe,  he  walked  some  dis 
tance  west  of  the  track. 

Pausing  and  striking  his  boot-heel  into  the  soft 
earth,  he  said  with  much  less  show  of  emotion  than 
is  exhibited  by  the  average  school  boy  in  laying  out 
a  ball-ground:  "We  will  build  a  hotel  here;  over 
there  a  bank.  The  main  street  will  run  toward  the 
railroad.  The  Basin  Central  from  Barba  will  come 
in  from  the  southeast." 

And  this  was  the  beginning  of  Republic,  the  town 
that  was  built  on  a  barren  desert  almost  in  the  time 
it  would  have  taken  to  prepare  the  land,  plant  and 
grow  a  crop  of  corn. 

The  stranger  was  the  president  of  a  townsite  com- 

343 


THE  WUOTISTG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

pany  organized  by  Jefferson  Worth  while  James 
Greenfield  was  congratulating  himself  that  he  at  last 
had  that  gentleman  in  a  trap.  Worth  had  given  the 
company  the  land  and  had  entered  into  an  agreement 
whereby  he  was  to  build  a  hotel  and  several  business 
blocks  and  furnish  them,  rent  free,  for  one  year. 

With  the  railroad  to  deliver  material  in  any  desired 
quantity,  work  was  begun  in  a  few  days.  The  King's 
Basin  Messenger  and  the  papers  in  Frontera 
and  Barba,  all  owned  by  Worth,  gave  full  accounts 
of  the  birth  of  the  new  town  and  the  reason  why  The 
King's  Basin  Central  would  not  be  built  into  Kings 
ton,  with  glowing  accounts  of  Worth's  plans  for  the 
future  of  the  Company's  rival  town.  The  Worth 
Electric  Company  moved  its  plant  from  Kingston  to 
Republic ;  the  ice-plant,  the  bank,  the  telephone  office 
and  every  enterprise  controlled  by  Worth  followed; 
while  many  merchants,  lured  by  the  success  of  the 
Wizard  of  the  Desert  in  every  undertaking  and  by 
the  promise  of  rent  free,  went  with  the  Worth 
industries;  and  from  the  world  outside  many,  who 
had  hesitated  to  enter  the  new  country  before  the 
railroad,  rushed  in  to  locate  in  the  new  town.  The 
first  building  completed  in  Republic  was  a  cottage 
for  Barbara  and  her  father. 

Meanwhile  the  work  on  the  road  to  Barba  and  the 
South  Central  District  was  begun.  The  "something" 
prophesied  by  Mr,  Burk  had  happened. 


344 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 
JEFFERSON  WORTH  GOES  FOR  HELP. 

|  HE  winter  following  the  birth  of  Republic 
witnessed  the  greatest  activities  that  had 
been  seen  in  the  new  country.  The  freighters' 
wagons  that  had  once  seemed  so  pitifully  inadequate, 
as  they  crept  feebly  away  into  the  mysterious 
silences,  were  replaced  now  by  long  trains,  heavi]~ 
loaded  with  building  material  and  goods  of  every 
kind  and  drawn  by  laboring  engines  that  puffed  and 
roared  and  clanged  and  screamed  their  stirring 
answer  to  the  challenge  of  the  silent,  age-old,  desolate 
land.  And  still  the  work  that  had  been  done  was 
small  in  comparison  with  that  which  was  yet  to  do 
before  the  reclamation  of  Barbara's  Desert  would  be 
complete.  The  acres  of  land  untouched  by  grader's 
Fresno  or  rancher's  plow  were  many  more  than  the 
acres  that  were  producing  crops.  The  miles  of  canals 
and  ditches  that  were  to  be  built  were  many  more 
than  the  miles  already  carrying  water.  The  tent 
houses  and  shacks  of  the  pioneers  were  yet  to  be 
replaced  by  more  comfortable  homes.  The  frontier 
towns — big  in  that  new  country — were  yet  to  grow 
into  cities.  From  the  top  of  any  building  in  any 
one  of  the  four  towns  one  could  look  into  the  barren 
desert. 

Tourists  on  the  main  line  that  skirted  the  rim  of 

345 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOKTH 

the  Basin,  from  the  cer  windows  saw  only  the  mighty 
reaches  of  the  dun  plain,  with  its  thirsty  vegetation, 
stretching  away  to  the  distant  purple  mountain  wall. 
Curiously  the  overland  passengers  looked  at  the 
crowds  of  settlers  waiting  for  the  Basin  train  at  the 
Junction,  wondering  at  their  hardihood.  Curiously 
they  followed  with  their  eyes  the  thin  line  of  rails 
and  telegraph  poles  leading  southward  until  it  was 
lost  in  the  mystic  depths  of  color.  To  the  tourists 
it  was  a  fantastic  dream  that  out  there,  somewhere  in 
the  barren  waste,  people  were  building  towns,  culti 
vating  fields,  transacting  business  and  engaging  in 
all  the  Good  Business  activities  of  the  race.  It  was 
as  impossible  to  them  as  it  had  been  to  Willard 
Holmes  when  Barbara  first  introduced  him  to  her 
Desert  and  tried  to  make  him  see,  as  she  saw,  the 
greatness  of  the  work  of  which  he  was  to  become  a 
part. 

The  latter  part  of  that  winter  found  Jefferson 
Worth  again  with  his  back  to  the  wall.  James 
Greenfield,  in  his  attempt  to  hold  up  his  rival  in  the 
matter  of  the  King's  Basin  Central  junction,  had 
wrought  better  than  he  knew.  While  Worth's  enter 
prises  were  barely  as  yet  paying  their  way,  the  rail 
road,  which  he  was  forced  to  build  in  order  to  protect 
his  own  interests  in  the  town  of  Barba  and  in  the 
South  Central  District,  would  require  practically  all 
he  had  realized  on  the  sale  of  the  other  line  that  had 
so  nearly  exhausted  his  resources.  The  Company 
president,  in  forcing  him  to  build  the  town  of 
Republic  in  addition  to  his  heavy  outlay  on  his  new 
railroad,  forced  him  to  take  another  desperate  chance. 

346 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

For  the  first  time  he  was  unable  to  pay  the  men,  and 
in  thirty  days  large  obligations  for  material  would 
be  due;  while  certain  rumors,  carefully  started  by 
Greenfield,  made  it  almost  impossible  for  him  to  raise 
the  funds  he  must  have. 

"I'm  sorry,  Jeff,"  said  his  friend  the  railroad  man. 
"But  with  present  unsafe  conditions  we  can't  load  up 
with  any  more  property  in  The  King's  Basin.  You 
know  as  well  as  I  that  if  the  river  comes  in  we  will 
have  to  get  in  there  to  protect  our  interests,  for  if 
those  ranchers  were  wiped  out  our  road  wouldn't  sell 
for  scrap  iron.  You  couldn't  do  it  and  the  Green 
field  crowd  wouldn't.  Why,  that  New  York  bunch, 
outside  of  Greenfield,  don't  know  whether  the  Colo 
rado  is  a  trout  stream  or  a  mill  pond.  Their  actual 
investment  doesn't  amount  to  half  what  you  have  put 
into  your  work,  for  the  sale  of  water  rights  to  the 
settlers  is  paying  all  the  expense  of  their  extensions 
and  they  won't  put  up  a  cent  to  rebuild  their  shaky 
old  structures.  And  look  where  we  stand !  WTe  have 
put  more  money  into  that  country  now  than  the  Com 
pany  and  you  together,  and  we  won't  pay  operating 
expenses  until  the  land  is  developed.  And  still  the 
public  is  roaring  about  our  rates.  We  don't  want 
another  desert  line  on  our  hands." 

Quietly  Jefferson  Worth  sold  his  interest  in  the 
banks  in  Frontera,  Barba  and  Republic;  and  as 
quietly  Greenfield,  who  was  watching,  set  about 
gaining  control  of  these  institutions.  .  His  South 
Central  District  water  stock  was  already  sold  and 
most  of  his  property  in  Barba.  Even  his  little  home 
in  Republic  was  mortgaged. 

347 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Thus  Worth  held  on  for  a  while  longer.  He  dared 
not  stop  his  work,  for  such  a  move  would  not  only 
ruin  his  chances  of  negotiating  the  loans  he  needed, 
but  by  bringing  upon  him  a  swarm  of  creditors, 
would  make  it  impossible  for  him  ever  to  recover  his 
standing  in  the  financial  world. 

Another  pay  day  passed  without  the  men  receiving 
their  pay  and  the  third  was  drawing  near.  Already 
there  was  grumbling  and  complaining  among  the  men 
over  the  delayed  pay  checks.  It  would  take  but  little 
more  to  start  serious  trouble. 

There  were  many  in  the  crowd  at  the  depot  that 
day  when  Jefferson  Worth  waited  for  the  train  to 
the  city,  who  looked  with  envy  upon  the  builder  of 
towns  and  railroads.  Horace  P.  Blanton  proudly 
pointed  out  to  a  stranger  "his  friend,  the  Wizard  of 
the  Desert,"  with  the  information  that  Mr.  Worth 
had  cleaned  up  a  cool  million  in  the  new  country. 
Several  went  out  of  their  way  for  a  closer  look  at 
him  or  for  a  possible  greeting.  Others  cursed  him 
roundly  under  their  breath  for  a  hated  member  of 
the  class  of  parasites  that  live  on  the  industry  of  the 
laborer,  a  financier  who  robbed  the  people,  a  capitalist 
who  produced  nothing. 

The  train  pulled  in,  and  Mr.  Worth,  with  a  good-by 
to  Barbara  and  Abe,  who  had  come  to  see  him  off, 
stepped  aboard.  No  one  save  Abe  Lee,  not  even 
Barbara,  knew  that  her  father  must  raise  fifty  thou 
sand  dollars  before  the  first  of  the  month  or  suffer 
financial  ruin.  And  no  one — not  even  Jefferson 
Worth  himself — knew  where  he  could  find  the  money. 

Barbara,  when  her  father  was  gone,  though  she 

348 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

knew  nothing  of  the  danger  that  threatened  him,  was 
restless  and  ill  at  ease,  beset  by  vague  and  nameless 
doubts  and  fears.  The  little  desert  town  with  its 
bustling  activity,  its  clamorous,  rushing  disorder,  its 
naked  newness  and  glaring  bareness,  offended  her. 
Nothing  was  completed.  The  streets,  the  buildings, 
the  very  people,  seemed  so  unsettled,  so  temporary. 
She  could  not  shake  off  the  feeling  that  it  would  all 
vanish  soon,  as  she  had  often  seen  the  phantom  cities 
of  the  desert  plain  melt  and  disappear. 

The  morning  after  her  father  left,  as  she  rode  El 
Capitan  slowly  along  the  little  village  streets  that  lay 
so  dusty  and  flat  and  that  ended  so  quickly  in  the 
open  country,  she  caught  herself  wondering  how  long 
the  dream  would  endure.  The  farms,  too,  with  their 
new  green  fields  and  their  primitive,  pioneer  shacks, 
tent  houses  and  shelters  and  their  acres  of  still  unim 
proved  land,  all  lying  under  the  white  blaze  of  the 
semi-tropical  sun,  were  they  more  than  a  mirage 
weirdly  painted  in  the  air  by  the  spirit  of  the  dread 
ful  land  to  lure  foolish  men  to  their  ruin  ? 

Near  the  crossing  of  a  canal  she  saw  a  zanjero 
turning  the  water  through  a  new  delivery  gate  into 
a  new  ditch,  and  checking  El  Capitan,  she  watched 
the  brown  flood  rolling  down  the  channel  prepared 
for  it  and  heard  the  dry  earth  hiss  and  purr  as  it 
sucked  up  the  moisture  with  the  thirst  of  a  thousand 
years.  She  wanted  to  cry  out  a  protest.  The  effort 
was  so  pitifully  foolish.  This  awful,  awful  land 
would  never  yield  to  the  men  who  sought  to  subdue 
it  with  such  feeble  means.  From  the  little  stream 
of  water,  no  deeper  than  would  reach  to  El  Capitan's 

349 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

knees  and  no  wider  than  his  stride,  she  looked  away 
and  around  over  the  seemingly  endless  miles  of  bar 
ren  waste. 

The  man  at  the  delivery  gate  recorded  the  number 
of  inches  in  his  book  and,  with  a  greeting  to  the 
young  woman,  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  away 
along  the  canal.  Barbara,  moving  on,  left  the  farms 
behind  and  rode  into  the  barren  waste.  This  at  least 
was  real.  This  in  its  very  desolation,  its  dreadful 
silence,  its  still  menace,  was  satisfying.  But  as  on 
that  morning  when  she  first  rode  El  Capitan  into  the 
desert  from  Kingston,  she  grew  afraid.  The  dreadful 
spirit  of  the  land  so  pressed  upon  her  that  she  turned 
her  horse  and  fled  as  one  might  fly  from  an  approach 
ing  storm. 

Another  restless,  unsatisfying  day  and  a  lonely 
evening  dragged  by.  Texas  and  Pat  she  had  not 
seen  for  a  week.  Even  Abe  had  not  been  near  her 
since  her  father  left.  To-morrow,  she  told  Herself, 
she  would  find  them  at  their  work  and  demand  a 
reason  for  their  neglect. 

The  next  morning  she  set  out  on  El  Capitan  to 
follow  the  line  of  her  father's  railroad  until  she 
should  find  her  neglectful  men-folk.  As  she  rode 
along  the  right-of-way  she  watched  the  hundreds  of 
Mexican  and  Indian  laborers  at  their  work  on  the 
grade  and  thought  of  the  men  who  had  built  the 
South  Central  Canal.  Those  men  too  had  labored 
for  her  father,  but  they  worked  also  for  themselves. 
The  canal  they  built  was  to  reclaim  their  own  land 
and  to  make  for  them  farms  and  homes.  These  poor 
fellows  on  the  railroad,  she  reflected,  had  no  share  in 

350 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

that  which  they  were  doing.  There  was  in  their  toil 
nothing  but  the  day's  wage.  She  could  not  feel,  as 
she  had  felt  in  the  South  Central  District,  that  she 
had  a  part  with  them  in  their  work.  Here  and  there 
she  recognized  a  Mexican  from  Rubio  City,  and  these 
returned  her  greeting  pleasantly,  for  they  remem 
bered  the  young  woman's  kindness  to  the  poor.  But 
by  far  the  greater  number  gave  her  only  sullen 
glances.  She  was  to  them  only  the  daughter  of  the 
man  for  whom  they  toiled  and  who  had  not  paid. 

Passing  from  gang  to  gang  and  camp  to  camp^ 
watching  the  dark  faces  of  the  laborers,  listening  to 
their  sullen  undertone,  the  young  woman  felt  the  rest 
less,  threatening  spirit  of  the  little  army  as  one  may 
feel  sometimes  the  heavily  charged  atmosphere  before 
an  electric  storm.  But  she  did  not  understand.  She 
had  never  before  ridden  over  the  railroad  work  alone 
as  she  had  so  often  done  in  the  South  Central  Dis 
trict. 

She  grew  a  little  frightened  at  last  at  the  scowling 
looks  and  muttered  remarks  that  followed  her  as  she 
went,  and  she  was  wishing  that  she  had  not  come 
when  she  saw  just  ahead  Abe  Lee  and  Pat.  The 
surveyor  was  giving  some  instructions  to  the  Irish 
boss  and  both  were  so  intent  that  they  did  not  see 
Barbara  approaching.  As  the  young  woman  drew 
quite  near,  a  low-browed  Mexican  who,  in  watching 
her  approach,  either  forgot  the  presence  of  his 
superiors  or,  in  sheer  ruffianly  bravado,  ignored  them, 
uttered  a  coarse  remark  to  his  companions  about  his 
employer's  daughter. 

The  young  woman  heard  and  turned  pale  as  death. 

351 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

Pat  heard  and,  turning  quickly  around,  caught  sight 
of  Barbara  and  saw  the  ruffian  who  had  spoken  look 
ing  at  her.  With  a  roar  the  Irishman  leaped  for 
ward,  and  with  a  blow  of  his  huge,  hairy  fist  dropped 
the  Mexican  a  senseless  heap  in  the  dirt. 

With  cries  of  rage  the  fellow's  countrymen  ran 
toward  the  white  man,  drawing  their  knives  as  they 
came.  Barbara  sat  leaning  forward  in  her  saddle 
breathless.  Abe  Lee  was  quietly  rolling  a  cigarette. 
Pat  stood  motionless,  his  battle-scarred  features  set 
and  his  eyes  shining  like  points  of  light. 

Within  ten  steps  of  their  boss  the  little  mob 
stopped.  Then  the  Irishman  spoke  in  a  voice  that 
rumbled  and  shook  with  menacing  rage.  "Ye, 
Manuel  an'  Pedro — drag  that  carrion  off  the  right- 
av-way,  an'  tell  him  when  he  wakes  up  av  he  values 
his  life  to  shtay  out  av  rache  av  me  two  hands.  The 
rest  av  ye  hombres  git  the  hell  out  av  here !" 

The  two  whom  he  called  by  name  did  his  bidding 
and  the  rest  scattered  like  sheep.  Pat  turned  to  Bar 
bara.  "  'Tis  sorry  I  am  that  ye  should  see  ut,  me 
girl,  but  ut  had  to  be  done." 

"Oh,  Pat !  Did  you —  Is  he — "  She  could  not 
speak  the  word,  but  followed  with  frightened  eyes 
the  still  form  of  the  unconscious  man  as  his  com 
panions  half-dragged,  half -carried  him  to  the  shade  of 
a  mesquite  tree. 

"There,  there,  don't  worry,"  said  her  big  friend 
soothingly.  "He's  not  as  much  hurted  as  he  should 
be.  He'll  have  a  bit  av  a  bump  on  his  noodle  that'll 
maybe  make  him  a  bit  careful  wid  his  foul  tongue 
for  a  while,  that's  all." 


352 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

Barbara  looked  down  into  the  face  of  the  old  glad 
iator  whose  eyes,  as  they  looked  up  at  her,  were  soft 
as  a  childs.  "Oh,  Pat!  Are  you  sure?  He — he 
crumpled  up  so !  It  was  awful !"  She  shuddered. 

"There,  there ;  av  course  I'm  sure.  Don't  I  know  ? 
Look  at  him;  he's  sittin'  up  now.  He'll  be  on  his 
fate  in  a  minute." 

Sure  enough,  as  Barbara  looked  again  she  saw  the 
Mexican  rising  to  a  sitting  posture  and  with  his  hand 
to  his  head  look  around  in  a  dazed  manner  as  though 
awakening  out  of  a  deep  sleep.  The  young  woman 
drew  a  long  breath  of  relief  and,  with  a  faint  smile, 
said  to  the  surveyor,  who  had  drawn  nearer:  "I'm 
sorry  I  came,  Abe.  I'm  afraid  you'll  think  that  I'm 
only  in  the  way  to  make  trouble.  But  I  was  so  lone 
some  all  alone  at  home." 

"Why,  Barbara,  you  know  how  glad  we  always  are 
to  see  you.  You  must  not  mind  this  little  incident. 
It's  all  in  the  day's  work  with  Pat,  you  see.  That 
fellow  there  has  had  this  coming  to  him  for  some 
time." 

The  Irishman  grinned  and  the  young  woman  on 
the  horse,  with  a  little  laugh,  said :  "All  the  same  I 
don't  think  I  would  like  you  for  a  boss,  Uncle  Pat. 
You're  too — too  emphatic." 

And  the  big  Irishman  with  twinkling  eyes 
retorted:  "Sure  av  ye  was  boss  av  a  gang  ye  wud 
break  more  hearts  wid  yer  swate  face  than  I  could 
heads  wid  me  two  hands."  Which  retort  effectually 
closed  the  incident. 

When  the  three  had  chatted  a  while  and  Barbara 
had  scolded  them  for  not  coming  to  see  her,  Abe  said : 

353 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

"I  think  you  had  better  go  back  now,  Barbara.  But 
don't  follow  the  line.  Strike  west  over  the  desert 
until  you  come  to  the  road  and  go  in  that  way.  We 
can't  leave  now  to  go  with  you,  and  some  of  these 
greasers  might  get  gay  again.  I'll  see  you  this 
evening." 

It  was  after  nine  o'clock  that  night  when  the  sur 
veyor  finally  reached  the  Worth  cottage.  Somewhat 
awkwardly  he  entered  and  seated  himself  in  the  near 
est  chair,  while  Barbara,  returning  to  her  favorite 
rocker  by  the  table,  said:  "It's  time  you  came.  I 
was  so  lonely  I  don't  believe  I  could  have  stood  it 
another  hour.  Eeally  you  and  Pat  and  Tex  have 
neglected  me  shamefully.  You  haven't  been  near 
since  the  day  father  left.  Even  Pablo  has  forgotten 
me." 

"Pablo  is  at  the  power  house  at  Dry  Eiver,"  Abe 
said  slowly.  "We've  all  had  our  hands  full  for  the 
last  three  days.  I  reckon  you  know  we  have  not 
stayed  away  because  we  wanted  to." 

Something  in  the  man's  tone  and  manner  caused 
Barbara  to  look  at  him  closely.  Was  it  a  fancy  in 
keeping  with  her  gloomy  spirit  of  the  last  few  days, 
or  did  the  surveyor's  tall  form  droop  as  if  with  dis 
couragement?  He  was  not  looking  at  her  with  his 
usual  straightforward  manner.  He  seemed  to  be 
studying  the  pattern  of  the  Navajo  rug  that  lay 
between  them,  and  certainly  his  lean,  bronzed  face 
wore  a  careworn  look  that  was  new.  She  noticed  too 
that  he  wore  belt  and  revolver,  which  was  very 
unusual  for  Abe. 


354 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"Of  course;  I  know!"  she  exclaimed.  "It  was 
childish  of  me  to  complain.  Forgive  me.77 

Abe,  without  answering,  looked  at  her — a  straight, 
questioning,  challenging  look  that  for  some  reason 
brought  another  flush  to  her  cheek.  Then  the  sur 
veyor  turned  his  gaze  again  upon  the  Navajo  rug. 

"I  know  you  are  tired,"  said  the  young  woman 
again.  "You  have  so  much  to  think  about  with  all 
those  men  to  look  after  and  daddy  away.  Come  now ; 
you  sit  right  over  here  in  this  easy  chair  and  shut 
your  eyes  and  smoke  and  forget  all  about  the  work 
and  everything,  while  I  make  a  little  music  for  you." 

Barbara  did  not  realize  how  she  tried  this  man 
of  the  desert  with  a  glimpse  of  a  heaven  that  Abe 
knew  could  never  be  for  him.  For  a  moment  he  sat 
motionless  without  answering,  his  eyes  still  fixed 
upon  the  floor.  Then  with  a  quick,  resolute  move 
ment  he  threw  up  his  head  and  straightened  himself. 
"I'm  sorry,  Barbara,  but  I  can't  stay  this  evening." 

"Can't  stay?"  she  cried.  "Why,  Abe,  you  just 
came !" 

"Yes,  I  know.  I — I  just  ran  in  to  ask  you — to 
see  if  you" — he  hesitated  and  stammered,  then  fin 
ished  desperately — "to  ask  you  to  let  me  send  Texas 
to  stay  here  to-night." 

She  looked  at  him  in  bewildered  amazement. 
"Why,  what  in  the  world  do  you  mean  ?  Why  should 
Texas  stay  here  to-night  ?" 

Then  as  a  sudden  possible  explanation  came  to 
her  mind — "Abe,  has  Uncle  Tex —  Is  he  in 
trouble  ?" 


355 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

The  surveyor  smiled  at  her  words.  "It's  nothing 
like  that,  Barbara.  Tex  is  all  right.  But  I  don't 
think  that  you  should  be  left  alone  here  with  only 
Ynez  just  now.  Pat  is  at  the  power  house  and  I 
must  be  at  the  ice  plant,  and  Tex — "  He  checked 
himself  in  alarm. 

Barbara's  face  was  white  and  her  eyes,  fixed  upon 
his,  were  big  with  sudden  fear  as,  rising  slowly  to  her 
feet,  she  went  towards  him.  With  an  exclamation 
he  sprang  from  his  seat  but  she  regained  control  of 
herself  and,  quietly  taking  another  chair  nearer  him, 
said:  "I  think  you  had  better  tell  me,  Abe,  just 
exactly  what  the  trouble  is.  I  know  something  is 
wrong  or  you  would  not  want  to  send  Texas  here  to 
me.  You  know  that  I  have  always  stayed  with  Ynez. 
Why  are  you  afraid  for  me  ?  Why  is  Pat  at  the 
power  house,  and  why  are  you  going  to  stay  at  the  ice 
plant  ?  And  why  do  you  wear  that  ?"  She  pointed 
to  the  heavy  Colt's  revolver. 

Little  by  little  she  forced  from  the  reluctant  super 
intendent  an  explanation  of  the  whole  situation :  how 
her  father  had  been  driven  by  the  Company  to  build 
the  new  town  of  Eepublic  in  addition  to  the  construc 
tion  of  his  railroad  to  Barba  and  how  conditions  in 
the  Basin  had  made  it  impossible  to  sell  this  line  to 
the  S.  &  C.  as  he  had  sold  before.  He  told  her  as 
gently  as  he  could  that  the  men  had  not  been  paid 
for  nearly  two  months,  and  that  if  her  father  did 
not  succeed  in  raising  the  necessary  funds  quickly 
he  would  lose  everything.  The  men  had  been  put 
off  from  day  to  day  with  explanations  that  their 
employer  was  away  and  that  they  would  receive  their 

356 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WOKTH 

pay  when  he  returned.  But  ugly  rumors  were  afloat 
among  them  and  their  angry  uneasiness  and  discon 
tent  were  increasing.  Threats  against  their  employer 
and  his  property  were  being  made  by  the  hot-headed 
leaders,  who  always  appear  under  such  conditions, 
and  the  surveyor  feared  that  serious  trouble  might 
start  at  any  hour. 

To  Barbara  the  situation  was  almost  incredible. 
Again  and  again  she  exclaimed  with  pity  for  her 
father,  and  demanded  to  know  why  they  had  all  kept 
her  in  ignorance  of  the  truth;  and  as  she  realized 
how  lovingly  she  had  been  shielded  from  every  worry 
that  she  might  feel  nothing  of  the  burden  that 
weighed  so  heavily  upon  them,  her  woman  heart 
cried  out  that  she  had  not  been  permitted  to  bear 
her  share. 

"But  I  know  now,"  she  said  at  last,  brushing  aside 
the  tears  that,  against  her  will,  filled  the  brown  eyes. 
"I  know  now  and  you  men  shall  see  that  I  can  do 
something  to  help."  She  stood  before  him — her 
strong  beautiful  figure  bravely  erect,  her  face  glowing 
with  the  light  of  a  determined  purpose. 

The  surveyor  smiled  his  appreciation  as  he  said: 
"It's  almost  as  good  as  money  in  the  bank  to  hear  you 
talk  like  that,  Barbara.  But  you'll  let  me  send  Tex 
over  to-night,  won't  you  ?" 

"You  must  do  whatever  you  think  best,  Abe.  But 
you  must  promise  me  this.  From  now  on  you  will 
tell  me  everything,  just  as  you  have  always  told  me 
about  the  work." 

Abe  drew  a  long  breath.  "I  don't  know  what 
your  father  will  say  but  I'll  do  it.  I've  felt  all 

357 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

along  that  it  was  hardly  square  to  keep  you  in  the 
dark." 

"Of  course  it  wasn't/'  she  agreed.  "And  now 
listen!  You  and  Pat  come  here  for  breakfast  with 
Texas  Joe  and  me.  Come  as  early  as  you  like." 

He  began  to  protest,  saying  that  they  would  need 
to  eat  at  daybreak  in  order  to  get  back  to  the  work 
by  seven  o'clock,  but  she  silenced  him  with — "And 
do  you  think  that  I  cannot  even  get  up  at  sun-rise  ? 
You  shall  not  lose  a  minute's  time  and  it  will  do  you 
good  to  start  out  with  one  of  Ynez's  good  break 
fasts." 

So  the  surveyor  was  forced  to  promise  this  also. 
Then  with  a  soft  "Buenos  noches,  Senorita,"  he  left 
her. 

Later  Texas  Joe  came  to  sleep  in  Mr.  Worth's 
room.  The  night  passed  without  incident,  and  when 
the  first  trace  of  silver  gray  light  shone  above  the 
eastern  mesa  beyond  the  rim  of  the  Basin  Abe  Lee 
returned  with  Pat  to  find  the  meal  ready  and  Bar 
bara  waiting  to  pour  the  fragrant  coffee.  While  the 
sky  was  still  aflame  with  the  colors  of  the  morning 
and  the  desert  lay  under  a  curtain  of  fantastic 
figures  and  grotesque  patterns  woven  by  the  light, 
the  three  men  mounted  their  horses  and  set  out  for 
the  field  of  the  day's  labors.  And  Barbara  at  the  gate 
watched  them  go  until,  in  the  distance,  their  forms 
too  were  caught  in  the  magic  of  the  desert's  loom  and 
woven  into  the  airy  design. 

Before  noon  Abe  came  back.  The  men  had  struck. 
The  surveyor  had  already  sent  a  telegram  to  Mr. 
Worth  and  in  the  afternoon  they  had  his  answer  that 

358 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

he  was  going  to  San  Felipe.  But  there  was  no  word 
of  hope  in  the  message. 

All  that  day  the  men  from  the  railroad  were  gath 
ering  in  the  little  town,  and  in  the  early  evening  the 
laborers  from  the  power  canal  at  Barba  joined  the 
throng  on  the  streets.  This  dark-faced,  scowling 
crowd  of  Mexicans  and  Indians  was  very  different 
from  the  company  of  pioneers  that  met  in  Kingston 
to  receive  Jefferson  Worth  a  few  months  before.  On 
every  hand  they  were  heard  cursing  the  man  who 
owed  them  their  wages  and  threatening  to  take 
revenge  if  they  were  not  soon  paid. 

That  night  Texas  Joe  again  slept  at  the  Worth 
cottage,  for  Barbara  stoutly  refused  to  leave  her 
home,  and  Abe  and  Pat,  with  the  little  handful  of 
white  men  from  the  office  force,  stood  guard  at  the 
power  house,  the  ice  plant  and  the  other  buildings 
that  were  grouped  near  the  railroad  on  the  edge  of 
town. 


359 


CHAPTEK  XXV. 
WILLARD  HOLMES  ON  TRIAL. 

CAECELY  had  the  train  with  Jefferson 
Worth  aboard  passed  beyond  the  yard  limits 
of  Republic  when  the  Manager  of  The 
King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  in 
Kingston  was  called  to  the  telephone  by  the  cashier 
of  the  bank  in  the  Company's  rival  town.  Ten 
minutes  later  a  Western  Union  message  in  cipher 
went  from  Mr.  Burk  to  James  Greenfield  in  the  city. 

The  afternoon  of  the  following  day  Willard 
Holmes,  at  the  Dry  River  Heading,  was  called  to  the 
telephone.  Mr.  Burk  was  at  the  other  end  of  the  line. 
"There  is  a  telegram  here  from  your  Uncle  Jim 
ordering  you  to  go  to  the  city  on  the  first  train.  If 
you  can  make  it,  catch  the  four-twenty  at  Frontera. 
I'll  pack  your  grip  and  give  it  to  you  when  you  go 
through." 

Mr.  Greenfield  met  the  engineer  at  the  depot  in  the 
city  the  next  morning  and  escorted  him  to  his  rooms 
in  a  hotel.  "I  was  almighty  glad  to  get  Burk's  wire 
that  you  were  on  the  road,"  said  the  older  man.  "I 
was  afraid  that  he  would  not  be  able  to  find  you  in 
time;  you  go  gadding  about  the  country  so.  Where 
did  he  catch  you  ?" 

"Dry  River  Heading.  My  gadding  takes  me 
mostly  there  or  to  the  intake  heading  these  days. 

360 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

Just  now  I  am  trying  to  patch  up  the  spillway  which 
threatens  to  go  out  at  any  time  altogether,  and  the 
heading  itself  is  so  shaky  I'm  almost  afraid  to  touch 
it  for  fear  it  will  fall  down  on  top  of  me.  No  one 
ever  dreamed  that  these  structures  would  ever  be 
called  upon  to  stand  the  strain  they  are  under  now. 
I  wish—" 

"All  right;  all  right,  my  boy;  I  think  I've  heard 
you  say  something  like  that  before.  I  called  you  in 
to  help  me  on  a  little  deal  that  will  put  us  in  shape 
to  build  all  the  new  structures  you  want." 

"You  mean  that  the  Company  is  at  last  going  to 
make  the  appropriation  I  have  been  begging  for  ?" 

"Not  exactly.  They  will  if  we  can  handle  one 
individual." 

"Who?" 

"Jefferson  Worth." 

"Jefferson  Worth  ?  What  under  heaven  has  he  to 
do  with  the  Company's  appropriations  ?" 

"He  has  a  lot  to  do  with  the  Company's  profits, 
which  amounts  to  the  same  thing." 

At  this  Holmes  was  silent  and  his  uncle  was  forced 
to  continue :  "You  know  what  Worth  has  been  doing 
to  the  Company,  don't  you  ?" 

"Yes ;  and  I  know  what  the  Company  has  been  try 
ing  to  do  to  him." 

"Exactly.  And  do  you  know  his  present  situ 
ation?" 

"Only  in  a  general  way." 

"Well,  in  a  definite  way  then:  he  is  here  in  the 
city  trying  to  raise  fifty  thousand  dollars.  He  must 
have  it  before  the  first  of  the  month  or  go  to  smash. 

361 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

If  he  goes  to  smash  the  Company  will  be  able  to  get 
hold  of  his  interests,  which  will  give  us  control  of  the 
whole  King's  Basin  project  as  we  planned  in  the  be 
ginning.  Then  we  would  be  able  to  put  what  you 
want  into  the  system.  If  Worth  gets  the  fifty  thou 
sand  he  is  safe  to  make  a  million  or  two  that  would 
otherwise  go  to  the  Company  and  we  wouldn't  feel 
justified  in  spending  any  more  money  on  new  struc 
tures." 

"But  Uncle  Jim,  what  on  earth  have  I  to  do  with 
all  this?" 

"It  happens  that  you  have  a  whole  lot  to  do  with 
it  my  boy,  or  I  wouldn't  have  called  you  away  from 
your  beloved  headings.  You  remember  old  George 
Cartwright,  don't  you  ?" 

Willard  Holmes  had  grown  to  manhood  with  Cart- 
wright's  sons  and  his  earliest  memories  were  of  boy 
ish  good  times  at  the  old  gentleman's  home.  With 
James  Greenfield,  Mr.  Cartwright  had  been  one  of 
his  father's  oldest  and  warmest  friends.  The  engi 
neer  listened  with  amazed  interest  as  Greenfield  told 
him  that  his  old  friend  was  spending  the  winter  on 
the  coast,  and  that  some  one,  the  general  manager  of 
the  S.  &  C.,  probably,  had  introduced  Jefferson 
Worth  to  him. 

"And,"  Greenfield  finished,  "they  have  him  all 
lined  up  to  furnish  Worth  with  the  capital  he  needs 
to  go  ahead.  If  he  gets  that  money  we  will  never  be 
able  to  block  him." 

"But  why  don't  you  get  Cartwright  into  your 
crowd,  if  he  is  so  ready  to  invest  in  reclamation 
projects?"  asked  the  engineer. 

362 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"I  can't  on  account  of  White  and  some  of  the 
others.  You  know  how  cranky  the  old  man  is.  Be 
sides,  we  don't  want  him  in  the  Company.  What  we 
want  is  to  block  Jefferson  Worth  from  getting  hold  of 
that  money.  I  sent  for  you  because  you  can  do  more 
with  Cartwright  on  this  proposition  than  any  man 
living." 

"You  mean  that  you  have  sent  for  me  to  influence 
Mr.  Cartwright  against  Jefferson  Worth's  interests  ?" 

"I  mean  that  I  expect  you  to  use  your  influence  in 
the  interests  of  the  Company — in  my  interests. 
Surely,  Willard,  that  is  not  asking  anything  un 
reasonable." 

"But  Uncle  Jim,  you  just  said  that  if  Worth  gets 
this  help  he  will  clean  up  a  million  or  two.  That 
looks  like  it  would  be  safe  enough  for  Mr.  Cart 
wright," 

"Yes,  and  I  said  also  that  if  Worth  did  not  get 
that  money  the  Company  would  acquire  his  interests 
in  The  King's  Basin." 

While  the  Company  president  was  speaking  a  mes 
senger  boy  knocked  at  the  door.  Greenfield  read  the 
note  and  handed  it  to  Holmes,  who  in  turn  read: 
"Mr.  Cartwright  left  this  afternoon  for  San  Felipe. 
Will  probably  return  in  a  week.  Worth  is  still  in 
town." 

"That  means  you  must  take  a  little  vacation,  Wil 
lard." 

"But  I  can't,  Uncle  Jim,"  protested  the  engineer. 
"My  work  is  in  such  shape  that  I — " 

The  older  man  interrupted.  "Your  work!  You 
seem  to  think  that  there  is  nothing  of  importance  to 

363 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  but 
drops  and  headings  and  intakes  and  canals,  and  the 
Lord  knows  what  else,  you  mess  around  with!  If 
you  handle  old  Cartwright  in  the  interests  of  the 
Company  it  will  be  the  best  week's  work  you  ever  did. 
He  is  likely  to  return  any  day,  and  you've  got  to  stay 
right  here  and  see  this  matter  through." 

All  that  day  the  engineer  roamed  about  the  city, 
striving  to  find  distraction  in  the  amusements  offered 
but  feeling  strangely  alone  and  out  of  place.  Under 
other  circumstances  he  would  have  keenly  enjoyed  the 
brief  vacation  and  the  change  from  the  desert  life 
and  work,  but  now  he  could  think  of  nothing  but  the 
situation  in  which  he  so  unexpectedly  found  himself. 

Once  he  would  not  have  hesitated  an  instant  to  do 
Greenfield's  bidding.  Why  should  he  hesitate  now? 

Why,  indeed ;  save  for  this — Willard  Holmes  knew 
that  it  would  be  better  for  the  people  in  the  new 
country  if  Jefferson  Worth  continued  his  operations. 

Willard  Holmes's  conception  and  understanding  of 
his  work  as  an  engineer  had  changed  materially  in 
the  years  since  those  first  days  with  Barbara  in  Rubio 
City,  even  as,  under  his  hand,  the  desert  itself  had 
changed.  It  may  have  been  that  in  his  long,  lonely 
rides  across  the  great  plain  in  the  white  light  of  the 
wide,  cloudless  sky,  something  of  the  spirit  of  the 
slow,  silent  ages  that  had  wrought  in  the  making  of 
the  desert  had  touched  his  spirit  as  it  could  not  have 
been  influenced  by  the  smoke-clouded  atmosphere  and 
crowded  highways  of  the  East ;  or  that  in  the  lonely 
nights  under  the  stars  the  weird,  mysterious  voices 
of  the  desert  had  taught  him  truths  he  had  never 

364 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

heard  in  the  noisy  cries  of  the  great  cities.  Perhaps, 
as  he  had  looked  day  after  day  across  the  wide  far- 
reaching  miles  with  their  seas  and  scarfs  and  veils  of 
color  to  the  purple  mountains,  the  very  greatness  of 
the  unpeopled  lands  forced  him  to  a  larger  thinking 
and  planning  and  dreaming  than  would  have  been 
possible  in  the  limited  views  of  his  eastern  homeland ; 
or  that  the  spirit  of  the  hardy  settlers  awoke  the  blood 
of  his  own  pioneer  ancestors  to  a  feeling  of  fellow 
ship  ;  or  his  constant  struggle  with  the  river  aroused 
the  old  conquering  spirit  of  his  race.  Or  again  it 
might  be  that  some  powerful  chord,  deep-hidden  and 
silent  in  his  nature,  had  been  touched  by  the  spirit  of 
the  girl  who  had  bidden  him  learn  the  language  of 
her  country  and  who  had  said  that  she  could  never 
forgive  one  who  was  untrue  to  the  work  itself. 

On  the  other  hand  there  was  the  training  of  his 
whole  professional  career.  Up  to  the  beginning  of 
The  King's  Basin  work  the  engineer  had  known  no 
other  creed  than  the  creed  of  those  corporation  serv 
ants  who  have  no  higher  interest  than  that  of  the 
machine  they  serve.  There  was  also  his  intimate 
relation  with  Mr.  Greenfield  and  the  debt  of  grati 
tude  he  owed  the  man  who  had,  in  every  way,  been 
a  father  to  him.  And  there  was  the  prejudice  of  class, 
the  instinct  that  holds  a  man  to  his  own  peculiar 
people,  and  the  argument  cleverly  advanced  by  Green 
field  that  the  protection  of  The  King's  Basin  project 
would  be  secured. 

As  the  engineer  was  wandering,  in  the  aimless  and 
preoccupied  manner  of  one  whose  mind  is  not  on  his 
task,  through  one  of  the  city  parks,  he  saw  just  ahead 

365 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

a  man  whose  figure  seemed  familiar.  With  aroused 
interest  he  quickened  his  pace.  There  was  no  mis 
taking  that  form,  so  strongly  upright,  so  instinct  with 
vigorous  power;  nor  those  broad  shoulders  and  the 
finely  poised  head.  It  was  the  Seer. 

Overtaking  the  older  engineer,  Holmes  greeted  him 
eagerly  and  the  brown  eyes  of  the  old  Chief  shone 
with  pleasure  while  he  returned  the  young  man's 
greeting  heartily. 

Had  the  Seer  any  engagement  that  afternoon  ? 

None  at  all.  He  had  just  arrived  from  the  North 
Country  and  was  loafing  a  day  or  two.  And  Holmes  ? 

The  younger  man  laughed.  He  was  a  stranger  in 
a  strange  land,  forced  by  circumstances  to  do  nothing. 

Good.  They  would  find  a  quiet  corner  somewhere 
and  Holmes  could  tell  his  old  Chief  about  The  King's 
Basin  work.  Also  The  King's  Basin  man  could  tell 
the  Seer  about  Barbara. 

So  they  found  a  seat  and  Willard  Holmes  told  how 
splendidly  the  Seer's  dream  was  coming  true,  and  in 
answer  to  many  questions  talked  of  Barbara  and  her 
life  in  the  new  country,  of  Jefferson  Worth  and  his 
operations,  and  of  some  of  his  own  professional  diffi 
culties  and  problems.  And  the  Seer,  as  he  led  the 
younger  man  on  and  studied  the  strong  bronzed  face 
that  was  all  aglow  with  enthusiasm  over  the  work, 
smiled  quietly  as  he  remembered  the  tenderfoot  who 
had  once  threatened  to  report  his  Chief  to  the  Com 
pany. 

Brave,  great-hearted,  generous  Seer!  There  was 
in  all  his  questioning  not  a  hint  of  any  feeling  against 
the  younger  man  who  had  been  given  the  place  that 

366 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

should  have  been  his.  He  fell  to  wondering  if  after 
all  the  Company  had  now  in  Holmes  the  man  they 
thought  they  had,  or  the  man  they  did  have,  indeed, 
when  they  made  him  their  chief  engineer.  If  the 
test  were  to  come  now —  The  Seer  did  not  know  that 
Willard  Holmes  was  even  then  undergoing  that  test. 

The  two  men  dined  together  that  evening  and 
afterwards  over  the  cigars  in  the  Seer's  room  the  old 
engineer  talked  of  the  progress  and  future  of  the 
great  Eeclamation  work,  of  its  value  not  only  to  our 
own  nation  but  to  the  over-crowded  nations  beyond 
the  seas,  and  of  its  place  in  the  great  forward  march 
of  the  race.  Then  gravely  he  spoke  to  the  younger 
man  of  his  own  efforts  to  bring  the  work  to  the  atten 
tion  of  the  people,  of  disappointments  and  failures, 
year  after  year,  until  at  last  the  work  in  Barbara's 
Desert  had  been  launched,  and  following  that  several 
other  projects  until  now  at  last  reclamation  had 
become  a  great  national  enterprise.  And  Willard 
Holmes  knew  that  out  of  the  millions  that  would  be 
realized  from  these  reclaimed  lands  this  man,  who 
had  seen  the  vision,  would  receive  nothing.  The 
Seer  had  not  even  a  position  with  an  irrigation  com 
pany  or  with  a  reclamation  project. 

As  he  listened  to  the  man  who  had  literally  given 
the  best  of  his  life  to  a  great  work,  the  Company 
engineer  felt  as  he  sometimes  felt  when  alone  in  the 
heart  of  the  desert  itself  he  heard  its  call,  the  call 
that  was  at  once  a  challenge,  a  threat  and  a  promise ; 
or  as  when  he  had  felt  the  sweet  power  of  Barbara's 
presence. 

At  his  hotel  Holmes  found  the  president  of  The 

367 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  anx 
iously  awaiting  him :  "Look  here !"  was  Greenfield's 
greeting.  "This  thing  is  approaching  a  climax." 

He  handed  the  engineer  a  telegram  from  Burk. 
Willard  Holmes  glanced  at  the  yellow  slip  of  paper. 
"Strike  on  the  K  B.  C.    Looks  serious." 
"Jefferson  Worth  left  for  San  Felipe  this  after 
noon,"   Greenfield   said   quickly.     "There's    another 
train  in  thirty  minutes.    We  mustn't  miss  it !" 


368 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 
HELD  IN  SUSPENSE. 

|EORGE  CARTWRIGHT,  the  retired  New 
York  capitalist,  belonged  to  that  older 
school  of  American  financiers  who,  having 
built  up  large  fortunes  by  taking  advantage  of  the 
speculative  opportunities  of  their  day,  look  somewhat 
doubtfully  from  the  pinnacle  of  a  successful  old  age 
upon  the  same  adventurous  spirit  when  shown  by  the 
active  younger  generation.  George  Cartwright  was 
ready  to  take  a  chance,  certainly.  He  had  taken 
chances  all  his  life.  But  George  Cartwright  dis 
trusted  mightily  what  he  called  the  "slap-dash,  smash- 
bang"  system  of  the  modern  manipulators  of  capital. 
Some  day,  he  predicted,  the  manipulators  themselves 
would  go  "smash-bang"  along  with  their  methods. 

Though  retired  from  the  rush  and  drive  of  active 
business,  the  veteran  still  enjoyed  taking  an  occa 
sional  hand  in  the  game,  though  more  than  ever  he 
played  that  hand  with  a  dignified  leisure  befitting 
the  stake.  "A  business  transaction,"  said  he,  "was 
not  something  to  be  put  through  with  a  nod  and  wink 
or  at  most  a  half  dozen  monosyllables  between  as 
many  bites  of  a  sandwich." 

Jefferson  Worth  was  in  desperate  need  of  quick 
action.  He  was  not  playing  a  game  of  business  for 
the  mere  pleasure  of  playing.  He  was  fighting  for 

369 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

his  financial  life  and  every  hour's  delay  increased  his 
peril.  But  Jefferson  Worth  did  not  need  his  railroad 
friend's  warning  that  an  attempt  to  rush  George 
Oartwright  would  be  disastrous.  The  old  financier 
was  not  at  all  backward  in  making  known  to  Jeffer 
son  Worth  his  opinions  of  Jim  Greenfield  and  the 
men  associated  with  him  in  the  Company.  He  had 
had  some  experience  with  them  not  altogether  satis 
factory  to  himself.  But  an  investment  in  actual 
improvement  and  development  enterprises,  such  as  he 
understood  Mr.  Worth  to  be  promoting,  was  rather 
an  attractive  venture.  He  was  going  for  a  week's 
trip  to  San  Felipe  and  when  he  returned  he  would 
take  the  matter  up. 

Barbara's  father  could  not  urge  his  need  of  imme 
diate  relief,  for  to  do  so  would  have  been  to  destroy 
his  only  hope.  So  he  was  forced  to  await  the  New 
York  man's  pleasure.  Nor  was  Mr.  Worth  ignorant 
of  Greenfield's  efforts  as  indicated  by  the  presence 
of  Willard  Holmes  in  the  city.  He  knew  also  the 
high  regard  that  Cartwright  held  for  the  engineer 
and  that  he  would  place  great  value  upon  the  Com 
pany  man's  opinion.  What  would  Willard  Holmes 
do? 

Abe  Lee's  telegram  announcing  the  strike  and  the 
critical  situation  in  the  Basin  changed  conditions 
instantly.  Now  Jefferson  Worth's  only  hope  was  to 
get  to  Cartwright  without  delay  and  to  present  the 
urgent  need  of  immediate  action.  For  while  the 
chances  that  the  old  capitalist  would  come  to  the 
rescue  were  greatly  lessened,  Jefferson  Worth's 
financial  ruin  was  certain  if  the  critical  situation  at 

370 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

home  was  not  relieved  instantly.  Sending  the  tele 
gram  to  Abe  Lee  he  took  the  first  train  for  San 
Felipe.  It  was  indeed  a  forlorn  hope. 

Mr.  Worth's  train  arrived  in  San  Felipe  about 
eleven  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Scanning  the  register 
at  the  principal  hotel  he  found  the  eastern  man's 
name,  but  the  clerk  informed  him  that  Mr.  Cart- 
wright  was  out  for  the  day  sight-seeing  with  a  party 
of  friends  from  New  York  and  would  not  likely 
return  until  late  in  the  evening. 

No  one  observing  the  quiet,  gray-faced  man  who 
waited  in  the  hotel  lobby  that  evening  could  have 
said  that  there  was  more  on  his  mind  than  a  mild 
interest  in  the  evening  paper.  Yet  Jefferson  Worth 
was  reading  an  account  of  The  King's  Basin  strike. 
Finishing  the  article,  he  dropped  the  paper  on  his 
knee  while  the  slim  fingers  of  his  right  hand  sought 
his  chin  with  a  nervous,  caressing  motion  and  his 
expressionless  eyes  moved  continually  over  the  crowd 
in  the  big  room.  Outside,  the  depot  'bus  had  just 
stopped  in  front  of  the  hotel  and  a  company  of  newly 
arrived  guests  were  entering  the  corridor,  while  the 
bell-boys  were  running  forward  to  relieve  them  of 
their  luggage  and  lead  them  to  the  spick-and-span 
clerk  behind  the  register. 

First  of  the  group  Jefferson  Worth  saw  the  portly, 
well-groomed  president  of  The  King's  Basin  Land 
and  Irrigation  Company  and  with  him  his  athletic, 
bronzed-faced  chief  engineer. 

Even  as  the  two  were  talking  with  the  clerk  and, 
as  Worth  rightly  guessed,  asking  for  Mr.  Cartwright, 
the  old  gentleman  with  his  party  of  friends  entered. 

8T1 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

At  a  word  from  the  man  behind  the  desk  Greenfield 
and  Holmes  turned  to  greet  the  entering  capitalist 
and  his  party.  They  were  all  New  Yorkers — ac 
quaintances  and  friends.  Coming  together  with  the 
width  of  the  continent  between  them  and  their  homes, 
their  greetings  were  cordial — joyful — even  boisterous. 
And  as  they  parted  to  follow  the  waiting  bell-boys 
to  their  rooms,  the  western  pioneer  banker  heard 
them  agreeing  to  meet  and  dine  together  a  few 
minutes  later. 

Jefferson  Worth  realized  that  a  business  interview 
with  Mr.  Cartwright  that  evening  was  impossible. 
Without  visible  interest  in  anything  else  he  raised 
his  paper  again  and  continued  reading. 

The  next  morning  when  the  New  York  capitalist 
stepped  from  the  elevator  on  his  way  to  breakfast 
he  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  man  who  so 
desperately  needed  financial  assistance.  "Why,  how 
do  you  do,  Mr.  Worth.  When  did  you  land  in  San 
Felipe  ?"  Cartwright's  tone  seemed  to  subtly  change 
his  commonplace  question  into — "Why  are  you  in 
San  Felipe?" 

Jefferson  Worth's  answer  was  straightforward.  "I 
arrived  yesterday.  Conditions  have  arisen  that  make 
it  necessary  for  me  to  see  you  at  once." 

The  old  veteran  looked  straight  into  Jefferson 
Worth's  face  with  the  understanding  of  one  who  had 
himself  passed  through  many  a  financial  crisis  when 
the  issue  depended  upon  time  gained  or  lost.  Some 
times  the  wheel  of  Fortune  turns  with  dizzy  speed. 

"Certainly,  Mr.  Worth.    Come  to  my  room  in  half 


372 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

an  hour,"  he  answered  quickly  and  as  quickly  moved 
away. 

When  The  King's  Basin  man  had  placed  the 
situation  fairly  before  him  and  the  old  financier  had 
asked  a  number  of  pertinent  questions,  he  said :  "Mr. 
Worth,  I  understand  that  neither  the  value  nor  the 
safety  of  my  investment  is  necessarily  impaired 
because  you  have  a  situation  on  your  hands  demand 
ing  immediate  relief.  I  can  see  that  the  capital  you 
ask  me  to  put  into  your  enterprise  will  relieve  the 
situation  at  once  and  enable  you  to  place  the  whole 
business  upon  a  solid  foundation.  If  you  fail  to 
raise  this  money,  or  if  you  get  it  too  late,  you  go  to 
the  wall  and  I  lose  a  chance  for  what  seems  a  profit 
able  investment.  As  I  told  you,  legitimate  promo 
tion  of  actual  development  projects  has  always  been 
attractive  to  me,  but  I  want  to  examine  into  matters 
a  little  further  before  I  give  you  my  final  answer. 
Frankly  I  want  to  ask  the  opinion  of  Willard 
Holmes.  I  would  not  place  too  much  confidence  in 
Mr.  Greenfield's  judgment,  or  rather,  I  should  say, 
in  any  advice  that  he  would  give  me  in  this  particular 
matter.  But  I  have  known  Willard  from  babyhood. 
I  knew  his  father  and  the  whole  family,  and  I  would 
be  guided  by  his  opinion  as  an  engineer  of  conditions 
in  the  new  country  in  which  you  are  all  interested. 
Fortunately  Holmes  is  here  in  the  hotel.  Let  me 
have  a  little  talk  with  him  and  I'll  give  you  my 
answer  without  delay." 

Writing  a  brief  note  asking  the  engineer  to  come 
to  his  room,  he  summoned  a  boy  and  directed  him  to 


373 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

deliver  the  message  immediately.  A  few  minutes 
later  Jefferson  Worth,  in  the  lobby,  saw  the  boy 
approach  Holmes,  who  was  with  Greenfield.  The 
engineer  took  the  note  from  the  boy,  glanced  at  it 
and  handed  it  to  his  companion.  For  a  moment  they 
stood  in  earnest  conversation;  then  the  engineer 
turned  and  moved  away. 

Jefferson  Worth  saw  him  enter  the  elevator,  saw 
the  ornamented  iron  door  close  and  the  cage  glide 
smoothly  upward. 

James  Greenfield,  confident,  self-possessed,  with 
the  air  of  one  whose  position  and  future  are  secure, 
jovially  greeted  one  of  the  New  York  party,  who 
came  up  on  Holmes's  departure,  and  the  two  stood 
laughing  and  chatting  over  their  cigars. 

Jefferson  Worth  sat  alone  in  a  secluded  corner  of 
the  lobby. 


374 


CHAPTEK  XXVII. 
ABE  LEE'S  RIDE  TO  SAVE  JEFFERSON  WORTH. 


|  HE  evening  that  Jefferson  Worth  spent  in 
the  San  Felipe  hotel  lobby,  apparently 
absorbed  in  his  paper  while  Greenfield, 
Holmes  and  Cartwright  with  their  New  York  friends 
were  enjoying  their  dinner,  Barbara  and  her  court 
had  their  anxious  supper  together  in  the  Worth  home. 

The  night  that  followed  was  one  of  wakeful  readi 
ness  on  the  part  of  the  men  who  guarded  the  Worth 
property.  But  the  strikers  seemed  content  to  curse 
and  threaten.  Breakfast  the  next  morning,  in  spite 
of  Barbara's  efforts  at  cheerfulness,  was  a  gloomy 
meal.  Worn  with  their  anxious  vigil  the  men  ate  in 
silence,  save  when  they  forced  themselves  to  respond 
to  their  young  hostess's  attempts  at  conversation. 
They  knew  that  another  day  of  idleness  would  fit  the 
striking  laborers  for  reckless  action. 

When  the  meal  was  over  Barbara  insisted  that  they 
must  get  some  sleep.  They  protested,  but  she  argued 
rightly  that  there  was  nothing  else  that  they  could 
do  and  that  they  must  keep  themselves  fit  for  a 
possible  need  of  their  strength  later.  So  she  brought 
comforts  and  blankets  for  a  bed  on  the  floor  in  the 
little  sitting  room  and,  drawing  the  shades,  an 
nounced  that  she  would  take  her  sewing  to  the  front 
porch  while  they  slept. 

375 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

Three  hours  passed  and  a  boy  arrived  from  the 
telegraph  office  with  a  message  addressed  to  Abe  Lee. 
Speaking  in  low  tones  that  the  tired  men  within 
might  not  be  disturbed,  Barbara  said  that  she  would 
hand  the  message  to  Mr.  Lee,  who  was  in  the  house, 
and  signed  her  name  in  the  book.  Then  as  the  boy 
went  down  the  walk  the  young  woman,  with  trem 
bling  fingers,  tore  open  the  yellow  envelope. 

The  message  read:  "Money  to-day  by  wire  from 
Tenth  National  Bank,  New  York.  Pay  men  and  go 
on  with  work.  I  leave  for  home  to-night  ten-thirty. 

Jefferson  Worth." 

Barbara  and  her  Desert  had  won  against  the  Com 
pany  through  Willard  Holmes,  but  Barbara  did  not 
know  that. 

Behind  her,  as  she  stood  with  the  yellow  slip  in 
her  hand,  the  sitting  room  door  opened  softly  and 
turning  she  saw  Abe  standing  on  the  threshold.  The 
alert  surveyor  had  been  aroused  by  the  coming  of  the 
messenger.  Even  before  she  spoke  her  face  told  him 
the  good  news. 

Abe  went  at  once  to  notify  the  strikers  that  they 
would  receive  their  pay  on  the  morrow  without  fail. 
To  several  of  the  leaders  he  exhibited  the  telegram 
with  Mr.  Worth's  instructions:  "Pay  men  and  go 
on  with  work,"  and  they  in  turn  verified  to  their 
countrymen  the  good  news.  As  the  word  went  around, 
the  dark  scowling  faces  were  lighted  with  satisfaction 
and  pleased  anticipation,  curses  and  threats  were 
silenced  in  laughter  and  merry  talk.  In  a  short  hour 
or  two  the  little  army  of  striking  laborers  that  had 
for  days  been  in  a  mood  for  any  violence  became  a 

376 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

good  natured  crowd  bent  on  enjoying  to  the  full  their 
short  holiday. 

Barbara  insisted  on  serving  dinner  for  her  three 
friends,  and  with  the  strike  practically  settled  and 
the  weary  strain  of  the  situation  removed  the  four 
made  the  meal  a  jolly  one.  When  they  could  eat  no 
more  they  still  sat  idling  at  the  table,  reluctant  to 
break  the  spell  of  their  companionship. 

Texas  Joe,  leaning  back  in  his  chair,  with  his  slow 
smile  drawled  in  an  inconsequential  way:  "I 
reckon,  now  that  the  financial  obsequies  of  Mr.  Jef 
ferson  Worth  has  been  indefinitely  postponed  owin' 
to  the  corpse  refusin'  to  perform,  that  Company 
bunch  will  wear  mournin'  because  said  funeral  didn't 
come  off  as  per  schedule.  Them  roosters  are  sure  a 
humorous  lot." 

"Of  course  they  will  be  sorry,  Uncle  Tex,"  said 
Barbara.  "It's  Good  Business,  you  know,  to  want 
your  competitor  to  fail." 

The  old  plainsman  shook  his  head.  "I  sure  don't 
sabe  this  financierin'  game,  honey,  but  I'm  stakin' 
my  pile  on  your  dad  just  the  same." 

"Well,"  said  Pat,  "we're  all  glad  on  Mr.  Worth's 
account,  av  course,  that  ut's  over  as  aisy  as  ut  is.  But 
for  mesilf,  av  ut  was  all  the  same  to  him  an'  to  ye 
Barbara,  I'd  be  wishin'  the  danged  greasers  'd  kape 
on  a  shtrikin'  so  long  as  ye  wud  lave  me  put  my 
fate  under  yer  table." 

They  all  laughed  at  Pat's  sentiments,  which  the 
other  two  men  endorsed  most  heartily.  Then  the 
surveyor  with  his  two  helpers  went  up  town. 

Stopping  at  the  bank  and  showing  the  cashier  his 

377 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

message  from  Mr.  Worth,  Abe  asked  if  he  had  heard 
from  New  York. 

Before  answering,  the  man  picked  up  a  telegram 
from  his  desk  and  scanned  it  thoughtfully.  "No," 
said  Greenfield's  cashier,  as  if  against  his  will;  "we 
have  heard  nothing  to-day." 

Just  before  the  close  of  banking  hours  the  surveyor 
again  called  at  the  bank.  "Any  news  from  New 
York  yet?" 

"Yes.    We  had  their  wire  just  after  you  left." 

"Well?"  asked  Abe  impatiently.  "Isn't  it  all 
right?" 

"It's  all  right,  Mr.  Lee,  except  that  we  were  forced 
to  answer  that  we  could  not  handle  the  business." 

The  surveyor  searched  his  pockets  for  tobacco  and 
cigarette  papers.  "I  think  you'd  better  explain,  Mr. 
Williams." 

Again  the  cashier  hesitated,  turning  thoughtfully 
to  the  telegram  on  his  desk.  Then  he  said  reluctantly : 
"It  is  Mr.  Greenfield's  orders,  Lee." 

With  a  cloud  of  smoke  from  Abe's  lips  came  the 
question :  "And  the  other  banks  in  the  Basin  ?" 

"You  would  only  waste  your  time." 

"Thanks,  Williams.    Adios." 

Abe  Lee  walked  slowly  out  of  the  building.  Moving 
aimlessly  down  the  street,  unseeing  and  unheeding, 
he  ran  fairly  into  Pat  and  Texas,  who  were  talking 
with  a  rancher  from  the  South  Central  District. 

The  voice  of  the  Irishman  aroused  him.  "Fwhat 
the  hell !  Is  ut  dhrunk  ye  are  ?"  Then,  as  he  caught 
a  good  look  at  the  surveyor's  face — "For  the  love  av 
Gawd,  fwhat's  wrong  wid  ye,  lad  ?" 

378 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

The  rancher  also  was  looking  at  him  curiously. 
Abe  gained  control  of  himself  instantly  with  an 
apologetic  laugh.  "Excuse  me,  Pat.  I  was  thinking 
about  the  work  and  didn't  see  you.  There's  a  little 
matter  that  I  want  to  take  up  with  you  this  after 
noon.  I'll  be  too  busy  for  it  to-morrow." 

The  rancher,  with  another  word  or  two,  turned 
away.  Then  Abe,  in  a  low  tone,  exclaimed:  "Let's 
get  away  from  the  crowd  quick,  where  we  can  talk." 

They  started  down  the  street  and  instinctively  their 
feet  turned  toward  Jefferson  Worth's  home  instead 
of  toward  the  office.  As  they  went  Abe  explained 
the  situation.  Pat  cursed  the  bank  and  James  Green 
field  and  the  Company  with  no  light  weight  curses. 

"Hell  will  sure  be  a-poppin'  when  them  greasers 
don't  get  their  pay  checks,  as  we've  been  promisin' 
them,"  drawled  Texas  Joe,  shaking  his  head  mourn 
fully.  "For  regular  unexpectedness  this  here  finan- 
cierin'  business  gets  me  plumb  locoed.  What  will 
you  do,  Abe  ?  Greenfield  sure  takes  this  trick,  don't 
he?" 

They  had  reached  the  gate  of  the  Worth  home  ano! 
had  paused  as  people  sometimes  will  when  engaged 
in  conversation  of  absorbing  interest.  Before  Abe 
could  answer  Texas,  Barbara,  who  sat  on  the  porch, 
called  laughingly:  "What's  the  matter  with  you 
men?  Are  you  hungry  again?  Why  don't  you 
come  in?" 

In  consternation  the  three  looked  blankly  at  each 
other.  Pat  growled  another  curse  under  his  breath. 
Texas  shook  his  head  doubtfully.  Abe  groaned: 
"She'll  have  to  know,  boys." 

379 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

Slowly  they  went  up  the  walk  and  Barbara,  as 
they  drew  near,  did  not  need  words  to  tell  her  that 
something  seriously  wrong  had  happened. 

When  Abe  had  explained  it  in  as  few  words  as 
possible  she  said:  "But  it  will  only  be  for  a  few 
days." 

"A  few  days  will  be  too  late/'  said  Abe  bluntly. 
"We  have  promised  these  greasers  and  Indians  that 
we  will  pay  to-morrow  without  fail.  When  we  don't 
pay,  on  top  of  all  the  trouble  we  have  had,  no  explana 
tion  will  stand.  They'll  go  on  the  warpath  sure.  If 
they  were  white  men  it  would  be  different," 

"Well,  why  don't  you  telegraph  father  and  let  him 
bring  the  money  or  send  it  by  express  from  San 
Felipe  ?" 

"But  he  couldn't  get  the  cash  started  before  to-mor 
row  afternoon.  Then  it  would  have  to  go  around  by 
the  city  and  wouldn't  get  here  until  three  days  later. 
Williams  didn't  tell  me,  you  see,  until  he  knew  that 
the  San  Felipe  bank  would  be  closed  before  I  could 
get  a  message  through." 

They  sat  in  troubled  silence — Pat  in  sullen  rage, 
Texas  squatting  on  his  heels  cow-boy  fashion,  Abe 
pulling  at  a  cigarette,  Barbara  leaning  forward  in 
her  chair.  Three  hours  before  they  had  been  so  merry 
because  the  trouble  was  over;  now  they  faced  a 
situation  many  times  more  perilous  than  before. 

With  a  quick  gesture  of  decision  Abe  tossed  aside 
his  cigarette.  "Tex,  where  is  that  Jyuckskin  horse  of 
yours  ?" 

"In  Clark's  stable.    Want  him  ?" 


380 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

"Yes.  Give  him  a  good  feed  and  bring  him  here 
as  soon  as  he  is  ready.  Bring  one  feed  and  a  canteen, 
and  while  the  horse  is  eating  go  around  to  my  room 
and  get  my  gun." 

Without  a  question  the  old  plainsman  left  the 
group  and  walked  swiftly  away. 

Barbara  puzzled  for  a  moment  then  asked:  "Are 
you  sending  Tex  to  San  Felipe  for  the  money,  Abe  ?" 

"I  am  going  myself.  Tex  will  be  needed  here. 
He's  worth  three  of  me  at  this  end  of  the  game. 
To-day  is  Wednesday.  That  buckskin  will  make  it 
to  San  Felipe  in  twenty-six  hours.  That  will  be 
to-morrow  evening.  If  your  father  can  have  the 
money  ready  I  should  be  back  here  by  Friday  night." 

While  speaking  he  was  tearing  a  leaf  from  his 
note  book.  Quickly  he  wrote  a  message  to  Jefferson 
Worth.  "Pat,  take  this  to  the  telegraph  office  and 
make  them  rush  k.  It  must  catch  Mr.  Worth  before 
he  leaves  at  ten-thirty  to-night." 

Barbara  sprang  to  her  feet.  "Oh,  please  let  me 
go.  Let  me  do  something." 

Abe  handed  her  the  slip  of  paper  with  a  smile. 
"If  you  don't  mind  I  will  take  a  nap  in  your  father's 
room.  And  will  you  ask  Ynez  to  have  a  bite  to  eat 
ready  for  me  with  a  sandwich  or  two  that  I  can  slip 
into  my  pocket.  Pat,  you  stay  here  and  don't  let 
anyone  disturb  me  until  five-thirty.  Then  call  me 
sure.  Tex  will  be  here  with  the  horse  by  that  time." 
With  the  last  word  he  disappeared  into  the  house. 

When  Pat  called  him  he  was  sleeping  soundly. 
Barbara  had  sent  the  telegram  and  with  her  own 


381 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  "WOKTH 

hands  prepared  his  supper  and  a  lunch.  While  he 
ate,  the  surveyor  gave  brief  instructions  to  his  two 
helpers. 

Then  Barbara  went  with  him  to  the  gate  where 
the  buckskin  horse,  one  of  that  tough,  wiry,  half -wild 
breed  native  to  the  western  plains,  waited,  head 
down  with  bridle  reins  hanging  to  the  ground.  As 
Abe  tightened  the  cinch  and  took  his  spurs  from  the 
saddle  horn,  the  girl  went  closer  to  his  side.  "I  wish 
you  did  not  have  to  go,"  she  said  as  he  stooped  to 
put  on  a  spur. 

He  straightened  up  and  looked  at  her.  The  brown 
eyes  regarded  him  seriously.  "Why,  Barbara!  you 
are  not  afraid  ?  Texas  and  Pat  will  be  here." 

"It's  not  myself,  Abe;  it's  you,"  she  answered. 
"You  have  had  such  a  hard  time  since  this  trouble 
began  and  now  this  long,  lonely  ride.  I  wish  there 
was  some  other  way." 

Stooping  quickly  so  that  she  might  not  see  his 
face  he  adjusted  the  other  spur  with  trembling 
fingers. 

"I  shall  think  of  you  every  minute,  Abe,"  said  the 
young  woman  softly. 

The  strap  of  the  spur  required  several  ineffectual 
efforts  before  the  man  could  fasten  it  on  the  steel 
button.  At  length  it  was  on  and,  rising  again,  he 
threw  the  bridle  reins  over  the  horse's  head,  holding 
them  in  his  left  hand  on  the  animal's  neck.  Barbara 
came  still  closer  and  with  her  finger  traced  the  design 
carved  on  the  heavy  Mexican  saddle.  "You  will  be 
careful,  won't  you,  Abe?" 

The  hand  on  the  horse's  neck  tightened  on  the 

382 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

reins  as  the  surveyor  looked  straight  into  the  young 
woman's  eyes  a  moment  as  if  searching  for  something 
that  he  knew  was  not  there.  Then  he  held  out  his 
free  hand,  saying  in  Spanish  with  a  smile :  "Adios, 
sister." 

Giving  him  her  hand  she  answered  in  the  same 
soft  musical  tongue :  "Adios,  my  brother." 

Turning  he  put  his  foot  in  the  stirrup  and,  with 
the  easy  graceful  swing  of  the  western  horseman,  he 
mounted  and  the  buckskin,  as  his  rider  lifted  the 
bridle  reins,  struck  at  once  into  the  long  lazy  lope 
of  his  kind. 

Leisurely  Abe  Lee  rode  along  the  main  street  of 
the  little  town.  The  strikers,  idling  in  front  of  the 
stores,  leaning  against  the  buildings  or  awning  posts, 
squatting  on  their  heels  on  the  sidewalks,  or  sitting 
in  rows  on  the  curbing,  saw  him  pass  without  interest. 
If  they  thought  anything  it  was  that  the  superin 
tendent  was  going  to  Kingston  on  some  business  or 
other  for  their  employer,  Senor  Worth,  or  that 
to-morrow  the  man  on  the  buckskin  horse  would  give 
them  the  slips  of  paper  that  they  would  take  to  the 
senor  at  the  bank,  who  would  give  them  their  money. 

Still  riding  leisurely,  Abe  left  behind  the  town 
that  Jefferson  Worth  had  built  in  the  barren  desert 
and  passed  the  newly  improved  ranches  on  the  out 
skirts.  Without  hurry,  even  checking  his  horse  to  a 
shuffling  fox-trot  at  times,  he  reached  Kingston. 

From  the  window  of  his  office  in  the  Company 
building  Mr.  Burk  saw  the  horseman  as  he  passed, 
and  the  Company  manager,  who  was  paid  for  think 
ing,  shifted  his  cigar  to  one  corner  of  his  mouth  and, 

383 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

tilting  his  head,  grew  thoughtful  while  the  buckskin 
horse  carried  his  rider  out  of  Kingston  toward  the 
south. 

Beaching  the  old  San  Felipe  trail  the  surveyor 
swung  his  horse  to  the  west  and,  leaving  behind  all 
that  man  had  so  far  wrought  in  La  Palma  de  la  Mano 
de  Dios,  rode  straight  toward  the  mountain  wall  that 
in  grim  barrenness  and  forbidding  solitude  had  stood 
sentinel  through  the  unnumbered  ages,  shutting  out 
from  the  land  of  death  the  world  of  life  that  lay  on 
the  other  side.  As  that  mighty  wall  had  from  the 
beginning  turned  back  every  moisture-laden  cloud 
from  the  thirsty,  starving  land,  so  it  seemed  now  to 
impose  itself  as  an  impassable  barrier  against  the 
man  who  rode  to  save  the  work  of  Jefferson  Worth. 

The  buckskin  horse,  as  if  realizing  that  this  was 
no  jaunt  of  ten  or  twenty  miles,  held  to  his  steady, 
machine-like  lope  that  measured  the  distance  of  each 
swing  with  the  accurate  regularity  of  a  pendulum; 
while  the  lean,  loose  body  of  his  rider,  resting  easily 
in  the  saddle,  yielded  without  resistance  to  the 
horse's  every  movement  so  that  those  laboring 
muscles,  working  so  smoothly  under  the  yellow  hide, 
might  not  be  called  upon  to  adjust  themselves  to  the 
sudden  strain  of  unexpected  changes  in  balance.  Mile 
after  mile  of  the  dun  plain  slipped  away  under  those 
apparently  slow-measuring  hoofs  at  surprising  speed. 
Now  and  then,  at  the  slightest  signal  from  Abe,  the 
gait  was  changed  from  a  lope  to  that  easy  shuffling 
fox-trot  that  lifted  the  dust  in  a  great  yellow  cloud. 

Straight  ahead  the  rider  saw  the  sun  go  slowly 
down  behind  the  mountain  wall.  He  watched  the 

384 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WOETH 

purple  shadows  that  he  knew  were  canyons  deepen, 
and  the  blue  that  he  knew  to  be  shoulders  and  spurs 
and  points  change  and  darken  until  every  detail  was 
lost  in  the  slate  gray  mass,  while  against  the  light 
that  lingered  in  the  west  every  tooth,  knob  and  peak 
of  the  sky-line  showed  a  sharp,  clean-cut  silhouette. 
He  saw  the  colors  of  the  desert  fade  and  melt  as  the 
dark  mantle  of  the  night  was  drawn  quietly  over  the 
plain.  He  heard  the  night  voices  of  the  desert  awak 
ening  and  sensed  the  soft  breathing  of  the  lonely 
land.  And  in  his  nostrils  was  the  indescribable  odor 
of  the  ancient  sea-bed  that,  for  uncounted  thousands 
of  years,  had  lain  under  a  blazing  sun  and  scorching 
wind  and  mistless  nights,  knowing  no  touch  of  human 
life  save  the  passing  presence  of  those  who  dared  to 
follow  that  one  thin  trail. 

And  always  with  that  dogged  regularity  the  sandy 
miles  were  being  measured  by  those  steady  hoofs.  At 
Wolf  Wells,  as  the  last  faint  tinge  of  light  went  out 
of  the  sky  beyond  the  black  mass  of  No  Man's  Moun 
tains,  Abe  drew  rein  for  the  first  time.  Dismounting, 
he  slipped  the  bit  from  the  horse's  mouth  and  the 
animal  plunged  his  nose  deep  into  the  refreshing 
water.  The  buckskin,  with  the  blood  of  his  wild 
ancestors  strong  in  his  veins,  was  no  dainty,  tenderly- 
nourished  aristocrat  that  needed  to  be  rested,  cooled 
and  blanketed  before  he  could  slake  his  thirst.  With 
out  pausing  he  drank  his  fill  and  then,  lifting  his 
head,  drew  one  long,  deep  breath  of  satisfaction  and 
stood  ready. 

In  the  dark  Abe  felt  his  saddle  girths,  then  ran 
his  hand  over  the  moist  warm  neck  and  slapped  the 

385 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

strong  hips  approvingly.  "Good  boy,  Buck!  Good 
old  boy !"  Without  thought  of  further  rest  they  went 
on — on — and  on,  without  pause  or  check  save  the 
occasional  change  in  gait  from  the  swinging  lope  to 
the  shuffling  fox-trot,  until  they  reached  the  line  of 
the  ancient  beach,  and  the  buckskin,  with  head  down, 
labored  heavily  up  the  steep  grade  to  the  Mesa. 

It  was  at  this  point,  years  before,  that  the  four 
men  and  the  boy  had  stopped  to  look  away  over  the 
awe-inspiring  scenes  of  wide  sky,  measureless  plain, 
rolling  sand  hills,  dream  lakes  and  ever-changing  seas 
of  color,  all  hidden  now  in  the  blackness  of  the  night. 

In  the  dark,  hall-like  Devil's  Canyon  the  sound  of 
the  horse's  feet  echoed  and  re-echoed  sharply  from 
the  rock  walls,  while  the  darkness  was  so  thick  that 
Abe  could  not  see  the  animal's  head. 

At  Mountain  Spring,  where  travelers  into  the 
desert  always  filled  their  water  barrels,  Abe  stopped 
again.  It  was  a  little  past  midnight.  Loosing  the 
saddle  girth  and  removing  the  bridle,  the  surveyor 
let  his  horse  drink  and,  taking  a  sack  with  his  one 
feed  of  rolled  barley,  he  deftly  converted  it  into  a 
rude  nose-bag  by  cutting  a  strip  in  each  side  two- 
thirds  the  length  of  the  sack  and  tying  it  over  the 
horse's  head.  After  eating  his  own  lunch  the  sur 
veyor  stretched  himself  out  flat  on  his  back  on  the 
ground  with  every  muscle  relaxed.  The  sound  of  the 
horse  munching  his  feed  ceased ;  the  animal's  head 
dropped  lower,  and  he  too — wise  in  the  wisdom  of 
the  open  country — relaxed  his  muscles  and  rested. 

For  an  hour  they  remained  there,  then  again  the 
bridle  was  adjusted,  the  saddle  girths  tightened,  and 

38'6 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBABA  WOETH 

they  went  on.  But  the  gait  was  not  so  measured 
now  nor  the  pace  so  steady,  for  they  were  well  into 
the  mountains,  climbing  toward  the  summit.  But 
still  there  was  no  pause  for  breath,  no  relief  for  the 
straining  muscles  of  the  horse  or  for  the  weary 
aching  body  of  the  rider. 

Crossing  over  the  summit  at  last  they  were  on  the 
long  western  slope  of  the  range  with  much  better 
going,  and  the  buckskin  again  carried  his  rider 
swiftly  on  while  the  thud  and  ring  of  the  iron-shod 
hoofs  on  the  rock-strewn  road  aroused  the  echoes  in 
the  dark  and  lonely  hills. 

Hour  after  hour  of  the  long  night  passed  with  no 
sound  to  break  the  silence  save  the  sound  of  the 
horse's  feet,  the  rattle  of  bridle  chains,  the  clink  of 
spur  or  the  creak  of  saddle  leather.  And  when  the 
gray  of  the  morning  came  they  were  in  the  foot  hills. 
Behind  them  the  mountains — a  bare  and  forbidding 
wall  on  the  desert  side — lifted  ridge  upon  ridge  with 
the  green  of  pine  on  the  heights,  oak  on  the  slopes 
and  benches,  and  sycamore  in  the  lower  canyons. 
Streams  of  bright  water  tumbled  merrily  down  their 
clean  rocky  courses  or  rested  in  quiet  pools  in  the  cold 
shadows.  Before  them  spread  the  beautiful  Coast 
country,  sloping  with  many  a  dip  and  hollow  and 
rolling  ridge  and  rounding  hill  westward  to  the  sea. 

At  the  first  ranch  house  they  stopped.  A  short 
hour's  rest  with  breakfast  for  man  and  horse,  and 
they  were  away  again.  For  dinner  Abe  drew  rein  in 
a  beautiful  little  village  in  the  heart  of  the  rich 
farming  country  and  at  four  o'clock,  from  the  sum 
mit  of  a  low  hill,  he  saw  the  ocean,  with  the  smoke 

387 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

of  San  Felipe  dark  against  the  blue  of  sky  and  water. 
There  were  yet  three  hours  of  riding.  The  tired  man 
straightened  himself  in  the  saddle,  the  horse  felt  the 
motion  and  responded  with  a  slight  quickening  of  the 
movements  of  those  wonderful  muscles  that  still 
worked  so  steadily  and  smoothly  under  the  buckskin 
coat.  The  animal  seemed  to  realize  with  the  man 
that  the  end  of  the  journey  was  in  sight.  Yet  it 
would  take  another  hour  and  another  of  that  steady, 
measured  lope  and  the  easy  shuffling  fox-trot. 

The  sun  was  dipping  downward  now  toward  the 
ocean's  rim,  and  sea  and  sky  were  a  blaze  of  glorious 
light;  while  on  that  dazzling  background  sail  and 
mast  and  roof  and  steeple  were  painted  black  with 
edges  of  yellow  flame.  The  horse,  with  the  dogged, 
determined  spirit  of  his  breed,  was  drawing  upon  the 
last  of  his  strength — the  strength  that  had  brought 
them  so  many  miles  without  faltering.  But  still  he 
answered  gamely  to  the  lifting  of  the  reins  with  that 
measured,  swinging  lope. 

But  as  he  watched  the  sun  go  down,  Abe  Lee  forgot 
his  weariness,  forgot  his  aching  muscles  and  stiffened 
limbs.  He  remembered  only  that  miles  away  in  the 
little  desert  town  there  was  a  mob  of  striking  Mexi 
cans  and  Indian  laborers  who,  disappointed  and 
enraged  at  not  receiving  their  promised  pay,  would 
be  ready  now  for  any  deed  that  promised  to  satisfy 
their  blind  desire  for  vengeance.  He  knew  that  no 
explanations  would  be  accepted.  No  plea  for  patience 
would  be  heard.  They  could  not  understand.  In 
their  eyes  they  had  been  tricked,  fooled,  cheated, 
defrauded  of  their  just  dues.  They  knew  no  better 

388 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

way  to  redress  their  wrongs  than  the  primitive  way 
— to  destroy,  to  injure,  perhaps  to  kill.  And  Barbara 
— Barbara  was  there.  If  only  they  would  let  that 
one  night  pass !  If  only  Tex  and  Pat  and  the  little 
handful  of  white  men  could  hold  them  off  a  few 
more  hours  until  he  could  get  back. 

Until  he  could  get  back!  But  what  if  Jefferson 
Worth  had  not  received  the  telegram  before  he  lef  • 
San  Felipe  ?  What  if  there  should  be  a  still  f urthei 
delay  in  getting  the  money  ? 

Through  the  lighted  streets  of  the  harbor  city  the 
buckskin  and  his  rider  finally  made  their  way.  A 
policeman,  looking  suspiciously  at  the  dust-begrimed, 
sweat-caked,  trembling  horse  that  stood  with  legs 
braced  wide  and  drooping  head,  and  at  the  haggard- 
faced  rider,  directed  the  surveyor  to  the  hotel  a  block 
away,  and  then  stood  watching  them  as  they  moved 
slowly  toward  the  end  of  the  ride. 


389 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
WHAT  THE  COMPANY  MAN  TOLD  THE  MEXICANS. 

|HILE  Barbara  and  her  three  friends  at  home 
were  rejoicing  over  the  message  from  Jeffer 
son  Worth  telling  them  that  he  had  secured 
the  money  needed  to  go  on  with  the  work,  Willard 
Holmes  was  alone  in  his  room  in  the  San  Felipe 
hotel. 

Following  the  engineer's  interview  with  Mr.  Cart- 
wright,  he  had  passed  through  a  stormy  scene  with 
James  Greenfield  and  the  words  of  the  president  of 
The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company 
were  ringing  in  his  ears  with  painful  monotony: 
"Discharged — discharged — discharged!" 

For  the  first  time  in  his  lif  3  the  engineer  had  heard 
those  words  addressed  to  himself.  He  could  not  rid 
himself  of  the  feeling  that  he  had  come  suddenly  to 
the  end  of  his  career. 

All  his  life  Willard  Holmes  had  had  back  of  him 
the  powerful  influence  of  his  foster  uncle.  Positions 
and  opportunities  had  come  to  him  from  the  first 
without  effort  on  his  part.  Notwithstanding  the  fact 
that  his  ability  as  an  engineer  was  naturally  of  a 
high  order  and  that  his  training  was  of  the  best,  he 
had  never  been  dependent  wholly  upon  these  things. 
Other  and  stronger  considerations  had  always  given 
him  his  place.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  faced 

390 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

the  world  of  his  profession  with  nothing  but  his 
naked  ability  as  an  engineer  to  speak  for  him,  while 
his  abrupt  dismissal  from  the  Company  compelled 
him  to  realize  with  sudden  force  how  over-shadowed 
his  work  had  always  been  by  outside  influences  and 
how  dependent  he  had  been  upon  them.  He  felt  lost 
and  bewildered,  knowing  not  which  way  to  turn.  His 
future  seemed  a  blank.  He  had  been  anxious  and 
eager  to  get  back  to  his  work  in  the  Basin.  But  he 
had  not  realized  how  much  that  work  meant  to  him — 
how  his  plans,  his  dreams,  his  whole  life  work  had 
become  centered  in  the  reclamation  of  The  King's 
Basin  Desert. 

If  his  dismissal  had  come  from  anything  connected 
with  his  work,  he  told  himself,  it  would  be  different. 
He  thought  bitterly  how  he  had  struggled  with  insuffi 
cient  equipment  and  inadequate  makeshifts  of  every 
kind  to  hold  the  Company  system  together  that  the 
pioneers  might  have  the  water,  without  which  the 
work  of  reclamation  could  not  be  done.  He  knew  every 
stake  and  pile  and  plank  and  crack  and  patch  in  tho 
whole  system.  He  had  learned  the  tricks  of  the  river 
and  was  familiar  with  the  conditions  peculiar  to  tho 
desert  country.  He  knew  the  terrible  danger  of  the 
flood  season  that  was  only  two  months  away.  He 
had  planned  and  prepared  to  meet  emergencies  that 
would  be  sure  to  arise. 

And  now,  because  he  had  refused  to  deliver  the 
settlers  wholly  into  the  hands  of  these  New  York 
capitalists,  who  cared  nothing  at  all  for  the  real  work 
save  as  it  could  be  made  to  increase  their  money 
bags,  he  was  turned  out.  There  was  now  no  reason 

301 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBARA  WORTH 

even  for  his  return  to  The  King's  Basin.  Why,  he 
asked  himself,  should  he  go  back  ?  To  see  some  other 
man  doing  his  work  ?  To  watch  as  an  outsider  the 
development  of  the  land  ?  or  perhaps — as  was  more 
likely — to  stand  idly  by  and  watch  its  destruction? 

But  even  as  he  told  himself  that  he  could  not  do 
that,  he  knew  that  he  would  go  back ;  that,  indeed,  he 
must  go.  The  desert  called  him — summoned  him 
imperatively ; — the  desert,  and  something  else :  some 
thing  that  was  as  mysteriously  impelling  as  the  spirit 
of  the  land;  something  that  had  grown  into  his  life 
even  as  his  work  had  grown;  something  that  seemed 
to  him  now  a  part  of  his  work  from  the  beginning. 

All  that  day  the  engineer  avoided  Greenfield  and 
his  eastern  friends.  In  the  evening  he  dined  alone 
and  after  the  meal  sat  alone  in  the  hotel  lobby  with 
his  back  to  the  crowd,  watching  through  the  big  win 
dow  the  life  of  the  street  outside — watching  without 
seeing.  Moodily  he  pulled  at  his  cigar,  his  thoughts 
far  away  in  Barbara's  Desert  where,  unknown  to 
him,  Abe  Lee  on  the  buckskin  horse  was  riding — 
riding — riding  to  save  the  work  of  Jefferson  Worth. 

His  thoughts  were  interrupted  by  the  voice  of  Jef 
ferson  Worth  himself,  who,  seeing  the  engineer  alone, 
had  gone  to  him.  Holmes,  drawing  another  chair 
close  to  his,  greeted  Barbara's  father  with  eager 
questions.  "Have  you  heard  from  home  ?  Is  every 
thing  all  right?" 

The  older  man  accepted  the  chair  by  the  engineer's 
side  and  answered  his  questions  by  saying:  "Mr. 
Cartwright  instructed  his  New  York  bankers  to  wire 
this  money  to  my  account  in  Republic.  I  notified 

392 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

Abe  to  pay  the  men  to-morrow  and  go  on  with  the 
work." 

It  was  characteristic  of  Jefferson  Worth  that  he 
did  not  attempt  to  thank  Holmes  for  his  part  in  the 
transaction  with  Cartwright,  but  in  some  subtle  way 
the  engineer  was  made  to  feel  his  gratitude  and 
appreciation.  After  a  pause  Worth  continued:  "I 
am  going  to  start  back  to-night  on  the  ten-thirty. 
When  are  you  figuring  on  going  back  ?" 

The  engineer  smiled  grimly.  "I  can't  figure  on 
anything  definite  just  now,  Mr.  Worth.  I  might  as 
well  tell  you,  I  suppose,  that  I  am  no  longer  con 
nected  with  the  Company." 

The  announcement  did  not  appear  to  be  unexpected 
to  Jefferson  Worth,  but  his  slim  fingers  caressed  his 
chin  as  he  said:  "I  was  afraid  of  that.  Have  you 
anything  in  view  ?" 

Holmes  felt  that  not  only  had  Worth  foreseen  the 
situation,  but  that  he  had  already  set  in  motion  some 
movement  to  relieve  it.  "No,  sir.  It  came  so  sud 
denly  that  I  have  scarcely  had  time  to  think." 

"I  figured  some  time  ago  that  the  Company  would 
not  be  able  to  hold  you  much  longer,"  was  the  sur 
prising  comment.  "The  S.  &  C.  has  been  looking 
for  a  good  man  to  put  down  in  our  country  for  some 
time.  Your  experience  on  the  river  would  make  you 
particularly  valuable  to  them  under  existing  condi 
tions.  I  told  them  about  you.  They  have  been  hold 
ing  off  waiting  developments.  If  I  were  you  I  would 
get  in  toucn  with  them  at  once.  You  can  go  up  to 
the  city  with  me  to-night.  We  will  stop  over  and 
look  into  the  proposition  and  then  if  it  is  all  right 

393 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

and  agreeable  to  you  we  can  go  on  home  together." 
Jefferson  Worth  seemed  to  understand  perfectly  the 
engineer's  desire  to  return  to  The  King's  Basin. 

Before  Holmes  could  express  his  delight  and  grati 
tude  at  the  unexpected  relief,  a  call-boy,  passing 
among  the  guests,  shouted:  "Mr.  Jefferson  Worth! 
Mr.  Jefferson  Worth!" 

The  banker  opened  the  message,  read  it,  then — 
without  a  word — handed  the  yellow  slip  to  his  com 
panion.  The  engineer  read :  "Banks  in  Basin  won't 
accept  New  York  business.  Can't  handle  pay  checks. 
Abe  Lee  starting  for  San  Felipe  overland  to-night. 
Have  money  and  fresh  horse  ready.  Barbara." 

Holmes  looked  in  consternation  from  the  paper  in 
his  hand  to  Barbara's  father.  The  face  of  Jefferson 
Worth  expressed  nothing.  It  was  perfectly  calm  and 
emotionless,  only  the  slim  fingers  were  lifted  to  the 
chin  as  if  behind  that  gray  mask  the  mind  of  the  man 
was  groping,  seizing,  searching,  examining  every 
phase  of  the  situation  so  suddenly  confronting  him. 
In  answer  to  the  engineer's  questioning  look  he  spoke 
in  colorless  words,  with  machine-like  exactness,  as  if 
the  matter  under  consideration  were  a  mere  mathe 
matical  problem  presented  for  his  solution.  "The 
Company  owns  the  banks.  Greenfield  went  into  the 
telegraph  office  this  morning  as  Cartwright  and  I 
came  out.  Abe  would  get  my  message  by  nine  o'clock. 
The  banks  would  get  Greenfield's  instructions  the 
same  time.  Abe  would  at  once  promise  the  men  their 
money  to-morrow.  That  cashier  didn't  tell  him  they 
couldn't  handle  the  business  until  too  late  for  him 
to  get  me  before  the  banks  closed  here.  Greenfield 

394 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

is  playing  for  time  so  that  the  strikers  will  make 
trouble.  Abe  has  it  figured  out  right.  He  can  get 
here  and  back  before  I  could  get  the  money  to  him 
by  train.  He  should  reach  here  to-morrow  night. 
There  is  nothing  to  do  except  to  see  Cartwright  this 
evening  so  that  he  can  wire  New  York  to-night  and 
I  can  get  the  cash  through  the  bank  here  before  Abe 
gets  in  to-morrow." 

As  he  grasped  the  situation  and  the  methods  Green 
field  had  employed  to  injure  Worth's  interests,  the 
engineer's  eyes  flashed.  "Mr.  Worth,"  he  cried, 
"that  is  the  dirtiest  trick  I  ever  saw  turned." 

"It's  business,  Mr.  Holmes.  Mr.  Greenfield  is 
merely  using  his  advantage,  that's  all." 

The  methods  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irri 
gation  Company  in  La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios 
were  the  methods  of  capital,  impersonal,  inhuman — 
the  methods  of  a  force  governed  by  laws  as  fixed  as 
the  laws  of  nature,  neither  cruel  nor  kind;  incon 
siderate  of  man's  misery  or  happiness,  his  life  or 
death;  using  man  for  its  own  ends — profit,  as  men 
use  water  and  soil  and  sun  and  air.  The  methods  of 
Jefferson  Worth  were  the  methods  of  a  man  laboring 
with  his  brother  men,  sharing  their  hardships,  shar 
ing  their  returns ;  a  man  using  money  as  a  workman 
uses  his  tools  to  fashion  and  build  and  develop, 
adding  thus  to  the  welfare  of  human  kind.  It  was 
inevitable  that  the  Company  and  Jefferson  Worth 
should  war. 

James  Greenfield  served  Capital ;  Jefferson  Worth 
sought  to  make  Capital  serve  the  race.  But  in  the 
career  of  each  of  these  men^  who  had  been  driven 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

by  the  master  passion — Good  Business,  into  The 
Hollow  of  God's  Hand,  the  dominant  influence  was 
a  life.  In  the  career  of  Jefferson  Worth  it  was 
Barbara.  In  the  career  of  James  Greenfield  it  was 
Willard  Holmes. 

In  The  King's  Basin  reclamation  work,  the  New 
York  financier,  whose  relation  to  Willard  Holmes 
was  a  tribute  to  his  love  for  the  engineer's  mother, 
felt  that  in  some  way — for  some  cause  which  he  could 
not  understand — the  younger  man  was  growing  away 
from  him.  Their  relation  of  employer  and  employe 
seemed  to  mar  the  close  intimacy  of  the  old  ties,  and 
the  older  man  looked  forward  eagerly  to  the  time 
when  his  business  plans  should  be  carried  to  a  suc 
cessful  climax  and  they  would  both  leave  the  West 
for  their  eastern  home.  That  morning  in  the  hotel, 
when  he  saw  Holmes  go  with  Cartwright  to  Jefferson 
Worth  and  by  that  knew  that  the  engineer  had  used 
his  influence  against  the  interests  of  the  Company, 
he  was  astonished  and  hurt.  He  felt  that  the  boy 
whom  he  had  reared  as  his  own  had  turned  against 
him.  As  the  president  of  the  Company  he  abruptly 
discharged  the  engineer,  for  he  could  do  nothing  else. 
As  the  foster-father  of  Willard  Holmes,  he  was  still 
proud  of  the  younger  man's  strength  of  character, 
for  under  all  his  anger  at  being  thwarted  in  his  plan 
against  Worth  he  knew  in  his  heart  that  the  engineer 
had  done  right. 

As  the  day  passed  and  the  engineer  did  not  seek 
his  company,  while  Greenfield's  own  stubborn  pride 
forbade  him  to  go  to  Holmes,  the  older  man's  heart 
grew  more  and  more  lonely.  That  evening,  when  he 

396 


THE  WIKNTNG  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

saw  Jefferson  Worth  and  Holmes  together  in  earnest 
conversation  and  through  all  of  the  following  day 
saw  them  apparently  associated  intimately  in  some 
plan  or  enterprise,  for  the  first  time  personal  feeling 
entered  into  his  consideration  of  the  whole  situation. 
He  felt  that  his  business  rival  had  become  his  rival 
for  the  affections  of  the  boy  he  loved.  The  business 
victories  of  Jefferson  Worth  he  could  accept  without 
feeling ;  but  that  this  man — a  stranger — should  come 
between  him  and  his  foster-son,  the  child  of  the 
woman  he  had  loved  with  lifelong  fidelity,  stirred  him 
to  a  vicious,  personal  hatred. 

At  dusk  that  evening  he  saw  Holmes  and  Worth 
dining  together.  When  the  meal  was  over  he  sat  in 
the  lobby,  ostensibly  chatting  with  friends,  but  cov 
ertly  watching  the  two  who  seemed  to  be  awaiting 
someone.  Suddenly  he  saw  them  rise  quickly  and 
start  toward  the  main  entrance.  A  dusty,  khaki-clad 
man  of  the  desert  was  entering  the  hotel.  Tall,  lean, 
bronzed,  his  face  haggard  and  strained  with  anxiety, 
his  eyes  blood-shot  through  loss  of  sleep,  his  figure 
expressing  in  every  line  and  movement  deadly  weari 
ness  and  aching  muscles,  he  strode  forward  into  the 
hotel  lobby,  his  spurs  clinking  on  the  white  tile  floor. 

Greenfield  recognized  Abe  Lee  and  grasped  the 
situation  instantly.  The  president  of  The  King's 
Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  knew  why  the 
surveyor  had  come  to  San  Felipe  and  he  knew  what 
he  would  carry  back.  If  the  money  to  pay  the  strikers 
reached  its  destination,  Jefferson  Worth  would  win ; 
if  not— — 

At  half  past  nine  o'clock  that  evening  the  thought- 

397 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

ful  Manager  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irriga 
tion  Company  received  a  cipher  message  from  his 
superior  that  drew  a  long,  low  whistle  from  his  lips. 
For  almost  an  hour  he  considered  with  an  occasional 
quiet  curse.  Then,  because  he  was  a  good  Company 
man,  he  put  on  his  hat  and  strolled  leisurely  down 
the  street  of  Kingston,  apparently  enjoying  his  even 
ing  cigar.  Once  he  stopped  to  greet  a  belated  rancher. 
Again  he  paused  to  chat  a  moment  with  a  citizen. 
Once  more  he  halted  to  exchange  a  word  with  a  group 
of  Company  men,  and  later  stopped  to  greet  three 
Mexicans  who  were  in  from  the  Company's  camps. 

The  Manager  asked  of  the  work — if  all  was  well. 

"Si,  Senor." 

Then  naturally  Mr.  Burk  inquired  for  news  of 
their  countrymen,  the  strikers  of  Republic. 

The  Mexicans,  coming  from  the  distant  camp, 
could  tell  him  nothing.  They  had  heard  little.  Could 
Senor  Burk  tell  them  of  the  situation  ? 

The  Manager  was  quite  sure  that  everything  would 
be  all  right  with  the  men  on  Jefferson  Worth's  rail 
road  day  after  to-morrow. 

That  was  "bueno." 

Yes,  Mr.  Worth's  superintendent  was  starting 
from  San  Felipe  that  very  evening  with  money — 
thousands  of  dollars,  American  gold — to  pay  the 
men.  He  was  coming  alone  through  the  mountains 
on  horseback.  Without  doubt  the  men  would  receive 
their  pay.  The  Manager  was  glad ! 

"Si,  Senor." 

"Gracias,  Senor!" 

"Buenos  noches !" 

"Goodnight." 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 
TELL  BARBARA  I'M  ALL  RIGHT. 

HEN  Abe  Lee,  after  twenty-six  hard  hours 
in  the  saddle,  dismounted  in  front  of  the 
San  Felipe  hotel  and  entered  the  lobby  his 
usually  perfect  nerves  were  strained  almost  to  the 
breaking  point.  For  weeks  the  surveyor  had  carried 
the  burden  of  Jefferson  Worth's  financial  condition 
as  if  it  were  his  own.  With  the  prospect  of  seeing 
the  work  he  loved  better  than  his  life  wrecked  and 
taken  over  by  the  Company,  he  had  for  days  faced 
the  critical  situation  of  the  strike.  Then,  in  the  very 
hour  of  relief,  the  situation  had  become  seemingly 
hopeless.  Abe  Lee,  better  than  anyone,  knew  the 
temper  of  the  Mexican  and  Indian  strikers.  He 
realized  fully  how  great  the  chances  were  that  at  the 
very  moment  when  he  finished  his  ride  for  relief  the 
town  of  Republic  was  the  scene  of  tragic  violence. 

If  Jefferson  Worth  had  left  San  Felipe  ignorant 
of  the  failure  of  his  effort  to  relieve  the  dangerous 
situation  at  home,  or  if  by  some  chance  the  money 
so  desperately  needed  was  not  ready,  Abe  knew  that 
the  cause  was  lost.  The  Company  would  triumph. 

As  he  entered  the  hotel  his  eyes,  searching  eagerly 
for  his  employer,  fell  first  on  James  Greenfield.  With 
a  movement  wholly  involuntary  the  hand  of  the  over 
wrought  desert  man  came  to  rest  on  his  hip  close  to 

399 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

the  heavy  Colt's  forty-five.     Then  he  saw  Jefferson 
Worth  and  Willard  Holmes  moving  towards  him. 

When  a  man  feels  himself  hard-pressed  in  a  fight 
and  is  struggling  desperately  to  hold  his  ground,  he 
has  small  thought  for  the  trifling  courtesies  demanded 
by  custom.  Without  returning  the  greetings  of  the 
two  men  and  instinctively  drawing  apart  from 
Holmes,  the  surveyor  shot  a  single  question  at  his 
employer.  "Have  you  got  it  ?" 

"Everything  is  all  right,"  answered  Jefferson 
Worth,  and  with  his  words  something  of  his  calm 
confidence  went  to  Abe  Lee. 

When  the  two  men  reached  Worth's  apartment  the 
surveyor,  without  hesitation,  began  stripping  off  his 
clothes.  "I  want  a  good  bath  first/7  he  said.  "And 
while  I  am  at  it  will  you  please  have  a  good  thick 
beefsteak  cooked  rare  and  sent  up  here?  Then  I'll 
sleep  for  a  couple  of  hours.  That  buckskin  of  Texas 
Joe's  is  standing  in  front  of  the  hotel.  He's  about 
all  in.  I  wish  that  you  would  see  that  he  is  cared 
for." 

As  he  finished  speaking  the  tall  lean  figure  of  the 
surveyor  disappeared  through  the  bath  room  door. 
Mr.  Worth  sent  the  order  for  his  superintendent's 
supper  to  the  cook  with  a  sum  of  money  that  insured 
immediate  and  careful  attention.  Then  with  his  own 
hands  he  led  the  buckskin  horse  to  a  bam  where  the 
animal  would  have  the  care  he  had  so  well  earned. 

When  Mr.  Worth  returned  to  the  hotel  he  opened 
the  door  of  his  room  softly.  There  was  a  tray  of 
empty  dishes  on  the  table,  an  odor  of  cigarette  smoke 


400 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

in  the  atmosphere,  and  in  his  employer's  bed  the 
surveyor,  sound  asleep.  Abe  Lee  understood  the  value 
of  every  moment  even  in  taking  rest. 

Two  hours  later  Mr.  Worth,  going  again  to  his 
room,  found  that  the  surveyor  had  just  finished 
dressing.  With  a  smile  the  financier  handed  Abe  a 
slip  of  yellow  paper.  It  was  a  message  from  Barbara 
saying  that  so  far  all  was  well  at  home,  and  concluded 
with  the  words :  "Love  to  Abe." 

Without  a  word  Abe  turned  away  to  buckle  about 
his  hips  the  broad  cartridge  belt  with  its  worn  holster 
and  his  big  black  gun.  But  Barbara's  father  did  not 
see  him  slip  the  bit  of  yellow  paper  into  the  pocket 
of  his  blue  flannel  shirt. 

Then  Mr.  Worth  gave  the  surveyor  a  black  leather 
bill-book  stuffed  to  its  utmost  capacity  and  secured 
with  rubber  bands.  "Here  it  is,"  he  said. 

Abe  stored  the  package  in  an  inner  pocket  of  his 
khaki  coat  and  was  ready. 

At  the  barn  they  found  Willard  Holmes  waiting 
with  two  horses.  The  engineer  wore  a  new  belt, 
holster  and  revolver.  When  he  had  greeted  them  he 
said :  "Well,  are  we  all  ready  ?  I  have  a  lunch  here. 
Is  there  anything  else  ?" 

Abe  looked  at  him  questioningly  and  turned  to  Mr. 
Worth. 

"Mr.  Holmes  is  going  back  with  you,"  said  the 
banker. 

For  an  instant  the  surveyor  hesitated.  But  some 
thing  in  his  employer's  tone  caused  him  to  withhold 
any  objection,  and  with  no  comment  he  turned  to 


401 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTI1 

inspect  the  horses.  The  animals  were  of  the  same 
tough  breed  as  the  buckskin.  " They're  all  right,  are 
they  ?"  Abe  asked  of  the  liveryman. 

"You  can  see  for  yourself,"  came  the  answer. 
"You  know  the  kind.  The'  ain't  no  thin'  can  outlast 
?em,  an'  Mr.  Worth  said  that  was  what  he  wanted." 

"We  will  need  one  feed  apiece,"  said  Abe.  "Put 
it  in  two  sacks,  you  know." 

"Sure,"  returned  the  man.  "I'd  a-had  it  ready 
but  this  here  gentleman  didn't  tell  me." 

While  the  liveryman  was  preparing  the  grain  Abe 
examined  saddles  and  cinches.  "Are  your  stirrups 
right?"  he  asked  Holmes. 

"I  think  so." 

"You'd  better  know.  We  don't  want  to  stop  to 
monkey  around  in  the  dark." 

The  barn  man  grinned,  with  a  wink  at  the  sur 
veyor,  as  the  engineer  decided,  after  trying,  that  he 
had  better  shorten  the  straps  a  hole.  Abe  silently 
assisted  him  in  adjusting  them.  Then — swinging 
into  his  saddle — the  surveyor  said  to  his  employer 
as  the  horses  moved  ahead:  "Good-by,  sir.  Wire 
little  sister  that  I'm  coming." 

Along  the  lighted  city  streets  they  rode  at  a  pace 
that  seemed  to  Willard  Holmes  more  fitting  for 
ladies'  gentle  exercise  than  for  two  men  bound  on  an 
errand  against  time.  The  eastern  man  urged  his 
horse  ahead,  but  his  companion  held  back  and  Holmes 
was  forced  to  check  his  speed  and  wait  for  the  other 
to  come  up  with  him.  To  the  engineer's  attempts  at 
conversation  the  other  answered  only  in  monosyllables 
or  not  at  all. 

402 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

There  had  been  no  opportunity  for  Mr.  Worth  to 
explain  to  Abe  the  engineer's  part  in  helping  him  to 
secure  the  money  from  Cartwright  and  the  consequent 
discharge  of  Holmes  by  Greenfield.  To  the  surveyor's 
mind  his  companion  belonged  to  the  enemy.  He 
could  not  understand  why — with  the  victory  or  defeat 
of  Jefferson  Worth  in  his  fight  with  the  Company 
hanging  upon  his  superintendent's  mission — the 
Company's  chief  engineer  should  volunteer  to  accom 
pany  him.  The  presence  of  Greenfield  and  Holmes 
in  San  Felipe,  the  action  of  the  banks  controlled  by 
the  Company,  made  it  clear  to  Abe  that  they  under 
stood  the  dangerous  situation  of  Mr.  Worth  and  his 
urgent  need  of  immediate  relief.  The  Company  had 
everything  to  gain  if  the  arrival  of  the  money  at  the 
scene  of  the  strike  could  be  delayed  even  for  a  few 
hours.  But  Abe  had  seen  that  it  was  Jefferson 
Worth's  wish  that  Holmes  go  with  him  and  the  sur 
veyor  could  not,  in  the  presence  of  Holmes,  discuss 
the  question. 

On  his  part  Holmes  felt  the  antagonism  of  his 
silent  companion  but  could  not  guess  the  reason, 
while  Abe's  attitude  of  aloofness  prevented  the  engi 
neer  from  making  any  explanation.  He  told  himself 
that  the  surveyor  was  naturally  over-wrought  with 
the  mental  and  physical  strain  of  his  long  ride,  and 
that  later,  at  some  more  opportune  time,  when  they 
halted  for  lunch  and  rest  perhaps,  they  would  come 
to  a  more  agreeable  spirit  of  companionship. 

But  he  could  not  content  himself  with  the  slow 
pace  when  there  was  such  evident  need  of  haste.  It 
was  all  a  mistake,  he  thought,  for  the  man  already 

403 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

wearied  to  undertake  the  return  trip.  A  fresh  rider 
was  as  necessary  as  a  fresh  horse.  The  surveyor  was 
evidently  too  exhausted  to  push  on  at  the  necessary 
speed  and  Holmes  felt  that  it  fell  upon  him  to  set 
the  pace  and  thus  force  his  companion  to  the  exertion 
required.  So  he  continued  urging  his  horse  ahead 
while  Abe's  mount,  held  back  by  his  rider,  tugged 
at  the  reins  and  grew  restless,  and  the  horse  of 
Holmes,  now  started  sharply  forward,  now  pulled 
down  almost  to  a  standstill,  became  equally  uneasy. 
So  they  rode  out  of  the  city  beyond  the  lights  and 
movement  of  the  streets  into  the  stillness  and  the 
darkness  of  the  night. 

At  last  as  Holmes  again  touched  his  horse  with 
the  spur,  making  him  bound  several  lengths  ahead, 
and  again  pulled  him  down  waiting  for  Abe  to  over 
take  him,  the  western  man  broke  the  long  silence. 
"You'll  have  to  quit  that,  Mr.  Holmes/'  he  said 
somewhat  sharply. 

The  engineer  did  not  understand.     "Quit  what  ?" 

"Breaking  ahead  like  that.  I'll  set  the  pace  for 
this  trip." 

"You  don't  seem  to  be  in  any  hurry,"  retorted 
Holmes,  nettled  by  the  surveyor's  tone. 

"I  ain't.     Not  in  that  kind  of  a  hurry." 

"But  look  here,  Abe.  Don't  you  know  that  Mr. 
Worth  expects  us  to  make  the  trip  in  the  shortest 
possible  time  ?  We've  got  to  get  that  money  into 
Republic  to-morrow  evening,  and  before  if  we  can. 
There  is  too  much  at  stake  to  poke  along  like  this." 

Abe  reflected.  The  Company  man  certainly  under 
stood  the  situation.  Aloud  he  said :  "I  think  I  know 

404 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

what  Jefferson  Worth  wants,  Mr.  Holmes,  and  I 
reckon  you'll  have  to  trust  me  to  carry  out  his  wishes. 
I  know  the  distance;  I  know  this  road;  and  I  know 
horse  flesh  a  little.  At  the  rate  you're  trying  to  go 
you'll  be  afoot  before  noon  to-morrow.  You  can  ride 
your  own  horse  down  if  you  want  to,  but  you  can't 
hinder  me  by  fretting  mine  into  unnecessary  exer 
tion.  He'll  need  every  ounce  of  his  strength  and 
I'm  going  to  see  that  he  doesn't  waste  any  of  it. 
Either  push  ahead  out  of  sight  and  hearing  as  fast 
as  you  please,  or  turn  back ;  but  if  you  ride  with  me 
you'll  quit  this  monkey  business  and  ride  quietly  at 
the  gait  I  set." 

Willard  Holmes  instantly  saw  the  force  of  the 
western  man's  words.  "I  beg  your  pardon,  Lee,"  he 
said.  "Of  course  you  know  best.  I'm  so  anxious 
over  this  business  that  I'm  acting  like  a  fool." 

After  that  companionship  was  a  little  easier,  but 
under  the  circumstances  the  one  topic  most  on  the 
mind  of  each  was  carefully  avoided.  At  midnight 
they  stopped  at  the  crossing  of  a  stream  to  water  and 
feed,  and  Abe  showed  his  companion  how  to  make  a 
nosebag  out  of  the  sack  in  which  his  grain  was 
carried. 

Daybreak  found  them  in  the  foothills.  At  the 
ranch  where  Abe  had  been  accommodated  the  morn 
ing  before  they  again  halted  for  breakfast.  With 
another  feed  for  the  horses  tied  behind  their  saddles, 
they  began  the  long  climb  of  the  western  slope  of 
the  mountains  and  about  four  o'clock  in  the  after 
noon  had  crossed  over  the  summit  and  reached  the 
spring  at  the  head  of  Devil's  Canyon— the  last  water 

405 


THE  WnraTffG  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

they  would  find  until  they  reached  Wolf  Wells  in 
the  desert. 

When  they  dismounted  at  the  watering  place  some 
two  hundred  yards  off  the  trail,  the  surveyor,  after 
slipping  the  bit  from  his  horse's  mouth  and  loosening 
the  saddle  girth,  moved  slowly  about  the  little  glen, 
his  eyes  on  the  ground.  Holmes,  standing  by  the 
horses  which  had  their  muzzles  deep  in  the  cool  water, 
watched  his  companion  wearily.  "Lost  something  ?" 
he  asked,  as  Abe  continued  moving  cautiously  about. 

"Not  yet,"  came  the  laconic  reply. 

"Well,  what  the  deuce  are  you  looking  for  then  ?" 

Abe,  coming  back  to  arrange  the  feed  for  his  horse, 
looked  closely  at  his  companion  but  made  no  answer. 

When  the  two  men  had  thrown  themselves  on  the 
grass  to  eat  their  lunch  the  surveyor,  between  bites 
of  his  sandwich,  carefully  scanned  the  mountain  side 
and  the  mouth  of  the  canyon  below.  Suddenly  reach 
ing  out  his  hand  he  picked  up  a  burnt  cigarette  butt 
and  regarded  it  intently,  while  the  engineer  watched 
him  with  curious,  amused  interest. 

"What  the  deuce  is  the  matter,  Abe  ?  You  act  like 
one  of  Cooper's  Leather-Stocking  heroes.  What's  the 
matter  with  that  cigarette  stub  ?" 

The  man  of  the  desert,  knowing  nothing  of  Cooper, 
did  not  smile  but  answered  shortly,  eyeing  the  engi 
neer  as  he  spoke :  "It  ain't  dry.  There  was  a  party 
at  this  watering  place  not  more  than  three  hours 
ago." 

"Well,  what  of  it  ?  This  is  government  property. 
Probably  somebody  ahead  of  us  going  into  the  new 
country  to  locate." 

406 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

"There's  been  nobody  ahead  of  us  all  day." 

"How  do  you  know  that?" 

Abe  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "How  do  I  know  that 
a  party  of  five  or  six  watered  here  since  noon  ?" 

"Perhaps  it's  someone  going  out." 

"Did  we  meet  anyone  ?    This  is  the  only  trail." 

"Well,  maybe  it  was  a  party  of  prospectors  or 
hunters.  They  would  not  follow  the  road." 

"They  would  have  pack  burros  or  mules.  Nothing 

but  horses  in  this  bunch.  They "  The  surveyor 

turned  his  head  quickly  to  look  up  the  hill.  His  ear 
had  caught  the  sound  of  a  horse's  feet  on  the  moun 
tain  road  above. 

Holmes,  looking  also,  saw  a  horseman  ride  leis 
urely  around  the  turn  and  down  the  grade  toward 
the  canyon.  Silently  they  watched  and  as  the  new 
comer  came  nearer  they  saw  that  he  was  a  Mexican. 
When  the  traveler  reached  the  point  where  he  should 
have  turned  aside  to  the  water  he  did  not  pause  but 
jogged  steadily  past.  "By  George!"  exclaimed 
Holmes,  "I  believe  that's  one  of  our  greasers  from 
the  outfit  in  Number  Eight." 

"I  know  it  is,"  said  Abe.  "Perhaps  you  can  make 
a  guess  as  to  what  he's  doing  here  and  why  he  didn't 
stop  for  water."  As  the  surveyor  spoke  he  was  roll 
ing  a  cigarette,  and  from  the  cloud  of  smoke  he 
watched  the  Mexican  ride  down  the  mountain  side 
and  disappear  between  the  narrow  walls  of  Devil's 
Canyon. 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know  what  he's  doing.  He 
seems  to  be  going  toward  the  desert.  There  might 


407 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

be  a  hundred  different  reasons  why  he  should  have 
been  out  somewhere." 

"There's  only  one  reason  why  he  didn't  stop  for 
water  at  this  place." 

"What's  that?" 

"He  had  already  watered." 

"But  there  has  been  no  chance  for  miles  back !" 

"He  watered  here." 

Holmes  spoke  sharply.  Abe's  manner  irritated 
him.  "I  don't  see  how  you  know." 

"Because  this  is  the  only  water  for  twenty  miles 
going  either  way." 

"But  you  said  you  thought  there  was  a  party  of 
five  or  six." 

"I  know  there  are  five  or  six." 

"Where  are  the  others,  then,  if  this  man  was  one  of 
the  party?" 

"I  don't  know  exactly  where  they  are,  but  I  can 
guess." 

By  this  time  Willard  Holmes  had  come  to  see  that 
to  his  companion  there  was  a  great  deal  more  in  the 
common-place  incident  than  the  surveyor  chose  to  put 
into  words.  Abe,  throwing  away  his  cigarette  and 
rolling  another  with  his  long-practiced  fingers, 
seemed  to  be  striving  to  arrive  at  some  conclusion 
about  something  that  to  the  engineer  was  all  very 
much  in  the  dark. 

Aggravated  by  the  reticence  of  his  companion,. 
Holmes  burst  forth  with :  "For  heaven's  sake !  Abe, 
open  up.  What's  on  your  mind  ?  What's  the  matter 
anyway?  What's  all  this  about?" 


408 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

Abe  faced  the  engineer  with  a  straight,  hard  look. 
"Don't  you  know  what  it's  all  about  ?" 

"So  far  as  I  can  see  it's  all  about  nothing  at  all. 
Tell  me." 

"Well,  Mr.  Holmes,  I  will.  But  I'm  not  sure  yet 
that  it  will  be  news  to  you.  The  rest  of  the  gang 
that  watered  here  is  down  in  Devil's  Canyon  waiting 
for  us.  They  were  here  something  like  three  hours 
ago.  After  watering,  one  of  them  went  on  over  the 
ridge  to  watch  for  us  and  the  others  went  back  down 
the  canyon.  They  knew  that  we  would  stop  here 
to  feed  and  water  and  that  the  lookout  could  jog 
along  past,  apparently  minding  his  own  business, 
and  tell  'em  that  we  were  coming." 

"You  mean  it's  a  hold-up  ?"  cried  Holmes,  in  some 
excitement. 

"That's  what  I  would  call  it.  Your  Company 
would  probably  call  it  intercepting  Mr.  Worth's  mes 
senger." 

"The  Company?  What  has  the  Company  to  do 
with  it?" 

"Greenfield  and  you  were  in  San  Felipe.  You 
knew  what  I  went  after.  You  know  that  the  chances 
are  big  that  Jefferson  Worth  will  go  to  smash  if  I 
don't  make  it  to  Eepublic  to-night,  and  that  greaser 
is  a  Company  man." 

In  a  flash  Holmes  saw  the  whole  situation  from 
his  companion's  point  of  view  and  understood  the 
surveyor's  suspicions.  At  the  same  time  the  engineer 
realized  that  it  was  now  too  late  for  him  to  explain 
his  presence  or  that  he  was  no  longer  connected  with 


400 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

the  Company.  In  his  perplexity  and  chagrin  and  in 
the  suddenness  of  it  all  he  said  the  worst  thing  pos 
sible.  "Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

Abe's  voice  was  hard.  "I'm  not  going  to  take  any 
fool  chances.  This  may  be  a  plain  ordinary  case  of 
hold-up  or  it  may  be  a  job  framed  up  by  the  Company 
simply  to  delay  me.  It's  all  the  same  to  me,  but  this 
money  goes  to  Eepublic  to-night.  Sabe  that  ?" 

The  other  would  have  spoken  but  Abe  interrupted. 

"We've  palavered  long  enough,  Mr.  Holmes.  The 
horses  have  finished  their  feed  and  it's  time  to  start." 

When  they  were  mounted  the  surveyor  said 
shortly:  "Now,  sir,  you  just  ride  ahead  and  you 
ride  slow  until  I  give  the  word — then  you  go  like 
hell.  If  you  lift  a  hand  to  signal  or  make  any  mis 
takes  like  stopping  to  fix  your  saddle  girth  or  check 
ing  up  to  speak  to  that  bunch  or  turning  'round,  I 
get  you  first  and  you  can't  afford  to  have  any  hazy 
notions  about  my  not  wanting  to  kill  you  because 
you're  from  New  York.  If  you're  square  you  can 
make  good  on  those  Company  greasers  down  there  and 
I'll  apologize  afterwards.  If  you're  in  this  deal  with 
your  damned  Company,  you'll  stop  drawing  your 
salary  right  here  and  there  won't  be  any  funeral 
expenses  for  them  to  pay  either!  Go  ahead." 

"Just  a  word  first,"  and  Abe  saw  that  the  engineer 
was  as  cool  as  a  veteran.  "Granting  that  you  are 
right  about  that  crowd  being  do^ra  there  to  stop  us, 
if  anything  should  happen  to  you  tell  me  how  to  get 
into  Eepublic  with  the  money.  You  will  be  taking 
no  chances  with  that  at  least." 

"Follow  the  trail  to  the  telephone  line.    You  know 

410 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

it  from  there.  There's  water  at  Wolf  Wells.  Give 
your  horse  a  drink  but  don't  wait  to  rest.  You  can 
push  him  from  now  on  as  hard  as  you  like.  You 
should  make  it  to  Republic  in  six  hours  from  here. 
Give  the  money  to  Miss  Worth.  Anything  else  ?" 

Holmes  replied  by  turning  in  his  saddle  and  mov 
ing  ahead.  Abe  followed,  his  horse's  nose  even  with 
the  flank  of  the  animal  in  the  lead. 

Easily  they  jogged  ahead  down  the  grade  toward 
the  narrow  throat  of  the  canyon.  A  hundred  yards 
from  where  two  points  of  jutting  rock  in  the  walls  of 
the  mountain  hallway  leave  an  opening  not  more  than 
fifty  feet  wide,  Holmes,  with  the  slightest  turn  of  his 
head,  spoke  over  his  shoulder.  "I  see  a  man's  face 
looking  around  that  point  of  rock  on  the  right." 

"Be  ready  when  I  give  the  word." 

"Won't  they  pot  us  ?" 

"Not  if  they  can  get  the  drop.  They'll  turn  us 
loose  on  the  desert." 

"Shall  I  shoot  ?" 

Behind  the  engineer's  back  Abe  smiled  grimly. 
"When  they  halt  us  and  I  give  the  word,  cut  loose  if 
you  want  to.  I'll  take  all  on  the  left." 

The  distance  lessened  to  a  hundred  feet. 

Suddenly  from  the  left  three  mounted  Mexicans 
pushed  into  the  road  and  from  the  right  two  more. 

Even  as  they  threw  up  their  guns  and  called: 
"Alto— Halt!"  Abe  gave  the  word: 

"Now !" 

The  two  white  men  drove  their  spurs  deep  into 
their  horses'  flanks,  throwing  themselves  forward  in 
their  saddles  with  the  same  motion.  With  mad 

411 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

plunges  the  animals  leaped  toward  the  highwaymen. 
Even  as  he  spoke  Abe's  gun  had  cracked  thrice  in 
quick  succession — the  Mexicans  firing  at  about  the 
same  instant.  Two  of  the  horsemen  on  the  left  went 
down  and  the  surveyor  reeled  almost  out  of  his  sad 
dle.  But  Holmes  did  not  see.  His  own  revolver 
barked  a  prompt  second  to  Abe's,  and  on  his  side  a 
Mexican  went  over  clutching  at  his  saddle  horn.  The 
horses  of  the  Mexicans  were  rearing  and  plunging. 
The  quick  reports  of  the  revolvers  echoed  viciously 
from  the  rocky  walls. 

But  the  white  men  went  through.  Down  the  rocky 
hallway  they  raced,  side  by  side  now,  as  hard  as  their 
maddened  horses  could  run.  A  moment  to  slip  fresh 
cartridges  into  his  cylinder  and  Holmes  cried  to  his 
companion:  "Good  stuff,  old  man!  Go  on;  I'll 
hold  7em."  And  before  Abe  could  grasp  his  purpose 
he  had  jerked  his  horse  to  his  haunches  and,  wheel 
ing,  faced  back  up  the  canyon  and  disappeared 
around  a  turn. 

Even  as  the  surveyor  was  trying  to  check  his  own 
horse — a  tough-mouthed  brute — another  rattling  vol 
ley  of  revolver  shots  echoed  down  the  canyon.  By 
the  time  Abe  had  succeeded  in  turning  his  stubborn 
mount  Holmes  re-appeared. 

"All  over!"  the  engineer  sang  out,  as  his  com 
panion  wheeled  again  and  rode  beside  him.  "Two 
of  'em  were  coming  after  us.  I  got  one  and  the  other 
turned  tail."  He  winced  with  pain  as  he  spoke. 
"They  presented  me  with  a  little  souvenir,  though." 

Abe  saw  that  his  left  arm  was  swinging  loosely. 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"You  are  hurt,"  he  said  sharply,  reining  up  his 
horse.  "Where  is  it?" 

"Here,  in  my  shoulder.  It  don't  amount  to  any 
thing.  Let's  get  on  to  water  and  I'll  fix  it  up." 
With  the  word  the  engineer,  whose  mount  had  also 
stopped,  started  ahead.  The  horse  went  a  few  steps 
and  stumbled — struggled  to  regain  his  feet — stag 
gered  weakly  a  few  steps  farther — stumbled  again 
— and  went  down.  As  he  fell  Holmes  sprang  clear. 
The  animal  raised  his  head,  made  another  attempt  to 
rise  and  dropped  back.  Another  bullet  from  the  last 
encounter  had  found  a  mark. 

The  dismounted  engineer,  who  stood  as  if  dazed, 
staring  at  his  dead  horse,  was  aroused  by  the  voice 
of  Abe  Lee.  "It  looks  like  we'd  got  all  that  was  com 
ing  to  us  this  trip." 

At  his  companion's  tone  Holmes  looked  up  quickly. 
The  surveyor's  lips  were  white  and  his  face  was 
drawn  with  pain. 

The  man  on  the  ground  sprang  toward  him  with 
a  startled  exclamation.  "You  too;  Abe!  Where 
is  it  ?" 

"My  leg,  on  the  other  side." 

Quickly  the  engineer  went  around  Lee's  horse  to 
find  the  leg  of  the  surveyor's  khaki  trousers  darkly 
stained  with  blood.  "Get  down,"  he  commanded 
and,  reaching  with  his  uninjured  arm,  almost  lifted 
his  companion  from  the  saddle.  An  examination 
revealed  an  ugly  hole  in  the  surveyor's  thigh.  With 
handkerchiefs  and  some  strips  cut  from  the  engineer's 
coat  they  dressed  their  wounds  as  best  they  could. 
When  they  had  finished,  Holmes  straightened  up  and 

413 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

looked  around.  Behind  them  was  the  bold  mountain 
wall,  grim  and  forbidding;  on  either  hand  the  dry, 
barren  Mesa;  and  ahead  the  miles  and  miles  of 
desert. 

As  if  in  answer  to  his  thoughts  the  man  on  the 
ground  said  grimly:  "This  is  hell  now,  ain't  it? 
Mr.  Holmes,  I'll  make  that  apology.  If  you  please, 
would  you  mind  shaking  hands  with  me  ?" 

Willard  Holmes  grasped  the  out-stretched  hand 
cordially.  "You  did  just  right,  old  man.  It  was  the 
only  thing  you  could  do.  But  I  want  to  tell  you 
quick,  before  anything  else  happens  that  I'm  not  a 
Company  man  any  more." 

"Not  a  Company  man  ?" 

"Greenfield  fired  me  because  I  helped  Jefferson 
Worth  to  interest  the  capitalist  who  is  furnishing 
him  the  money  he  needs." 

For  a  moment  Abe  Lee  looked  at  the  engineer  in 
silence ;  then  his  pale  lips  twisted  into  a  smile.  "Mr. 
Holmes,  would  you  mind  shaking  hands  again  ?" 

With  a  laugh  the  engineer  once  more  held  out  his 
hand.  Then  he  asked  seriously:  "How  are  we 
going  to  get  out  of  this,  Abe  ?" 

The  smile  was  already  gone  from  the  surveyor's 
face.  He  answered  slowly,  with  dogged  determina 
tion  in  his  voice.  "We've  got  to  get  this  money  to 
Republic  to-night.  It's  the  only  thing  that  will  stop 
those  cholos  and  Cocopahs.  We'll  make  it  to  water 
together,  then  you  can  go  on.  Help  me  up !" 

With  the  engineer's  assistance  Abe  managed  to 
gain  his  seat  in  the  saddle,  Holmes  mounting  behind, 


414 


Adios.     It'll  Barbara  I'm  all  rijjh 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

and  thus  they  made  their  way  down  into  the  Basin 
and  to  Wolf  Wells. 

There  Holmes  helped  his  companion  from  the 
horse  and  to  the  shade  of  a  mesquite  tree  near  the 
water  hole,  where  he  stood  over  him  as  he  lay  on  the 
ground,  protesting  vigorously  against  leaving  him 
alone  in  the  desert.  But  the  surveyor  argued  him 
down.  "I  couldn't  possibly  make  it  if  we  had 
another  horse,"  he  said.  "I'm  down  and  out.  There'll 
be  hell  to  pay  in  Republic  to-night,  even  if  the  boys 
have  held  them  off  this  long.  The  money's  got  to 
get  there  this  evening.  You  can  reach  there  by  ten 
o'clock  and  send  a  wagon  back  for  me.  Don't  you 
see  there's  no  other  way  ?"  He  held  out  the  black 
leather  bill-book  with  the  rubber  bands.  "Here,  take 
this  and  go  on.  Go  on,  man !  What's  a  night  in  the 
desert  to  me  ?" 

"But  those  greasers  may  come  this  way." 
"They  won't.  But  if  they  should  I  have  my  gun, 
haven't  I,  and  I'll  see  them  before  they  see  me.  Go 
on,  I  tell  you.  We've  lost  too  much  time  already. 
Think  of  that  mob  and  Barbara.  You've  got  to  go, 
Holmes." 

The  engineer  turned  towards  his  horse.  "Good-by, 
old  man." 

"Adios.  Tell  Barbara  I'm  all  right." 
Abe  Lee  watched  the  loping  horse  grow  smaller 
and  smaller  in  the  distance,  then  watched  the  cloud 
of  dust  that  lifted  from  the  trail  to  hang  all  golden 
in  the  last  of  the  light.  Turning  he  saw  the  summit 
of  the  mountain  wall  sharply  defined  against  the  sky. 


415 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

With  a  groan  his  form  relaxed.  He  closed  his  eyes. 
He  was  indeed  down  and  out. 

The  desert  night  fell  softly  over  the  wide,  thirsty 
plain.  The  snarling  coyote  chorus  came  out  of  the 
gloom.  Out  there  Willard  Holmes  was  riding — 
riding — riding — along  the  old  San  Felipe  trail. 
Away  over  there,  somewhere  under  those  stars,  Bar 
bara  was  waiting  his  return.  He  remembered  her 
parting  words  and  how  he  had  failed  to  find  in  her 
eyes  that  which  he  had  longed  to  see.  He  felt  for  the 
paper  in  the  pocket  of  his  shirt:  "Love  to  Abe." 
She  would  never  have  sent  that  message  had  her  love 
been  other  than  it  was.  Abe  Lee,  born  and  reared 
in  the  desert,  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to  deceive 
himself.  For  his  work  and  for  the  woman  whose  life 
was  so  strangely  and  closely  bound  up  with  it  he  had 
given  the  utmost  limit  of  his  strength.  And  now 
another  man  would  finish  the  ride  and  go  to  her  with 
the  prize.  Not  that  it  would  make  any  difference  to 
Barbara,  but  somehow  it  mattered  a  great  deal  to 
Abe. 

Willard  Holmes,  who  in  spite  of  his  splendid 
strength  had  not  the  desert  man's  powers  of  endur 
ance,  clung  grimly  to  one  thought — the  money  must 
go  to  Republic.  The  steady  rhythm  of  his  horse's 
feet  seemed  to  beat  out  the  word :  "Barbara !  Bar 
bara  !  Barbara !" 

The  trying  scene  with  Greenfield,  the  long  hard 
hours  in  the  saddle,  the  excitement  of  the  fight  in 
the  canyon,  with  his  anxiety  for  his  wounded  com 
panion  left  alone  in  the  desert,  were  almost  too  much* 
Could  he  hold  out  ?  Could  he  make  it  ?  He  must. 

416 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

The  engineer  held  his  seat  with  the  strength  of 
desperation.  He  must!  The  money  must  go  to  Ee- 
public  that  night — to  Barbara !  Barbara !  Barbara ! 
The  horse's  feet  seemed  to  have  beaten  out  the  word 
for  ages.  For  ages  he  had  been  riding — riding — 
riding  towards  some  point  out  there  ahead  in  the 
desert  night. 

The  engineer  knew  now  what  it  was  that  called 
him  back. 


417 


CHAPTEE  XXX. 

MANANA!  MANANA!  TO-MORROW!  TO-MORROW! 

|  HE  night  when  Abe  Lee  started  on  his  ride 
from  Republic  to  San  Eelipe  passed  quietly 
in  the  little  desert  town.  Texas  and  Pat 
with  a  few  faithful  white  men  guarded  the  Worth 
property  lest,  in  some  way,  the  news  that  Worth 
would  be  unable  to  pay  as  his  superintendent  had 
promised  should  get  out  and  precipitate  a  crisis.  But 
the  strikers  continued  to  enjoy  peacefully  their  holi 
day,  looking  forward  to  the  morrow  when  they  would 
be  enriched  with  nearly  two  months'  pay.  When  the 
morrow  came  the  laborers,  their  dark  faces  beaming 
with  childish  happiness,  gathered  early  in  front  of 
Jefferson  Worth's  office.  Texas  and  Pat,  with  the 
men  of  the  office  force  who  had  been  up  all  night, 
were  sleeping,  for  another  night  of  guard  duty  was 
before  them. 

When  it  was  ten  o'clock  and  no  one  had  arrived  at 
the  office,  the  crowd  of  laborers  began  to  show  signs 
of  growing  impatience.  Then  someone  recalled  see 
ing  Abe  riding  on  the  buckskin  horse  toward  the 
south  and  suspicion  grew.  At  last  a  few  of  the  more 
intelligent  went  in  a  body  to  the  bank. 

"We  come  to  see  you  about  money.  You  sabe 
about  money  ?" 

"What  money  is  that  ?"  asked  the  man  behind  the 
window  shortly. 

418 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

"Our  money  for  work  on  railroad.  Senor  Worth 
was  to  pay.  El  Superintendente  say  pay  to-day  sure. 
He  no  come.  You  sabe  ?" 

"I  sabe  that  Worth  won't  pay." 

"No  ?" 

"No.     He  has  no  money  here." 

The  Mexicans  exchanged  glances.  "No  money? 
You  are  quite  sure,  Senor  ?" 

"Sure." 

"Gracias,  Senor.     Adios!" 

It  was  a  dangerous  crowd  that  filled  the  streets  of 
Republic  that  afternoon  and  evening,  and  all  through 
the  night  that  followed  the  friends  of  Jefferson 
Worth  expected  every  hour  the  fulfillment  of  the 
strikers'  threats.  Soon  after  breakfast,  which  Pat 
and  Tex  shared  with  Barbara,  the  message  came  from 
Mr.  Worth  telling  them  that  Abe  was  on  his  way 
home  with  the  money. 

Again  the  men  were  told  that  they  would  receive 
their  pay  on  the  morrow,  but  this  time  the  announce 
ment  was  received  with  black  scowls  and  muttered 
curses  of  disbelief.  "They  make  us  damn  fools,  one 
time.  How  we  know  this  time  not  the  same  ?"  asked 
one  of  the  leaders,  speaking  for  the  crowd.  "Mebbe, 
Senor  Tex,  you  not  know.  Mebbe  they  fool  you  like 
us.  We  get  money  this  day,  we  glad — go  work.  We 

no  get  money  by  this  night "  an  expressive  shrug 

of  the  shoulders  finished  the  sentence. 

The  attitude  of  the  citizens  of  Republic  was  one 
of  angry  indifference.  They  were  angry  both  with 
Jefferson  Worth  and  the  strikers  because  the  trouble 
was  unsettling  and  harmful  to  the  best  interests  of  all 

419 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAEA  WORTH 

the  business  in  the  town  and  to  some  degree  turned 
the  inflowing  stream  of  settlers  and  investors  towards 
other  points  of  the  new  country.  They  were  indiffer 
ent  because  of  that  underlying  conviction,  brought 
about  by  mysteriously  authoritative  rumors  and  whis 
pered  statements  from  supposed  inside  sources,  that 
the  cause  of  the  trouble  was  a  fight  between  Jefferson 
Worth  and  the  Company.  Whether  capitalists  rise 
or  capitalists  fall  is  always  a  matter  of  indifference 
to  all  who  are  not  themselves  of  the  capitalist  class. 
For  capital  continues  its  mastery  of  them  just  the 
same.  No  one  doubted  that  the  railroad  would  be 
finished  whether  Jefferson  Worth  failed  or  not. 
Horace  P.  Blanton  was  not  backward  in  expressing 
the  popular  feeling,  and  the  popular  feeling  often 
expressed  grows  ever  more  popular. 

Toward  the  end  of  the  afternoon  Pablo,  who  had 
been  mingling  with  his  countrymen  all  day,  came  to 
"headquarters"  to  report.  The  strikers  were  plan 
ning  to  attack  their  employer's  property  that  night. 
Pablo  was  certain  that  the  mob  would  go  first  to  the 
power  plant  and  the  adjoining  buildings. 

No  help  was  to  be  had  from  the  citizens  and,  save 
for  the  few  white  men  in  Mr.  Worth's  employ  who 
had  been  made  to  understand  the  situation  and  the 
reason  for  the  delay,  Tex  and  Pat  were  alone.  They 
knew  that  there  was  small  chance  of  Abe's  arrival 
until  well  toward  midnight.  For  a  little  they  con 
sidered  the  situation. 

Then  the  old  frontiersman  spoke.  "Hit  stands  to 
reason  that  Pablo  here  is  right  an'  that  the  stampede 
will  head  toward  the  works  first,  an'  they'll  all  go 

420 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

together.  They  ain't  a-comin'  here  'til  later,  after 
they've  made  their  biggest  play.  Now  Pablo,  you 
listen.  Get  two  horses — sabe,  two — one  for  Ynez 
and  one  for  yourself,  and  have  them  with  El  Capitan 
for  La  Senorita  ready  by  the  back  door.  You  watch. 
If  Senor  Lee  comes,  tell  him  quick  to  go  to  the  power 
house.  If  the  men  come,  take  the  women  on  the 
horses  and  get  out  of  the  way.  You  understand  ?" 

"Si,  Senor.    I  will  care  for  La  Senorita." 

Texas  Joe  turned  to  Barbara.  "I  don't  reckon 
they'll  get  here  at  all,  for  I  bank  on  Pat  an7  me  fixin' 
somethin'  to  interest  'em  until  Abe  gets  here.  But 
it's  best  to  be  fixed  for  what  you  ain't  expectin'. 
You'll  be  a  heap  better  off  with  Pablo  anywhere  away 
from  here  if  they  should  come  this  way." 

When  the  night  fell,  Texas  and  Pat  went  to  the 
scene  of  the  expected  trouble  and  Barbara  was  left 
with  Pablo.  The  Mexican  prepared  the  horses  as 
Texas  had  instructed  and  then  took  up  his  position 
by  the  front  gate,  proud  and  happy  that  they  had  so 
honored  him — that  they  had  trusted  him  to  guard  his 
employer's  daughter.  The  darkness  deepened. 
Watchful,  alert — Pablo  strove  to  see  into  the  gloom 
and  listened  to  catch  the  first  sound  of  approaching 
friend  or  enemy.  The  white  men  should  learn  that 
he  could  protect  La  Senorita — La  Senorita  who,  in 
Rubio  City,  had  been  to  him  an  angel  of  mercy  when 
he  was  lying  injured — La  Senorita,  whom  they  all 
loved. 

Behind  him  the  door  of  the  house  opened,  letting 
out  a  flood  of  light ;  then  closed.  In  the  darkness  a 
voice  called  softlj :  "Pablo,  are  you  there  ?" 

421 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

"Si,  Senorita.    You  want  me  ?" 
Barbara  came  quickly  down  the  walk  to  his  side. 
"It's  so  lonely  and  still  in  the  house,  Pablo;  may  I 
stay  out  here  a  little  with  you  ?    We  can  both  watch." 

Surely  La  Senorita  could  stay.  Why  not  ?  Pablo 
was  to  protect  her,  not  to  keep  her  a  prisoner. 

She  laughed  quietly.  "I  believe  you  would  do 
anything  for  me,  Pablo." 

"I  would  protect  La  Senorita  with  my  life,"  he 
answered  simply. 

"I  believe  you  would,  Pablo;  and  so  would  Tex 
and  Pat  and  Abe.  You  are  all  so  good  to  me  and  I — 
I  feel  so  good  for  nothing — so  useless." 

In  the  darkness  the  musical  voice  of  Pablo  an 
swered  :  "Our  love  for  La  Senorita  is  so  great.  It 
is  like  the  desert  in  the  gentle  moonlight,  so  big  and 
wide.  It  is  like  the  soft  night  under  the  stars,  so 
deep.  Everybody  so  loves  La  Senorita,  and  anyone 
loved  that  way  cannot  be  what  you  say — good  for 
nothing.  Sometime  men  love  like  the  sun  on  the 
desert  in  day  time — fierce  and  hot,  and  that  is  differ 
ent;  that  makes  sometimes  trouble — sometime  make 
men  kill.  It  is  not  good,  La  Senorita,  but  it  is  so." 

They  heard  a  galloping  horse  coming  nearer  and 
nearer.  Barbara  touched  her  companion's  arm  and 
Pablo  laid  a  hand  on  his  revolver.  Was  it  Abe? 
Was  it  someone  to  say  that  the  mob  was  coming  ? 

The  horse  and  rider  passed  and  the  sound  of  their 
going  died  away  in  the  stillness  of  the  night. 

"Pablo,  what  time  will  they  go  to  the  power 
house  ?" 

"Any  time  now,  Senorita." 

422 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

Barbara  spoke  quickly — eagerly  now.  "Are  there 
not  a  good  many  of  your  countrymen  from  Eubio 
City  among  them,  Pablo  ?" 

"Si,  Senorita." 

"And  do  they — do  they  remember  me  ?" 

"Surely  no  one  who  lived  in  Eubio  City  could 
forget  La  Senorita,  who  was  so  kind  to  the  poor." 

"Then,  Pablo,  I  have  a  plan  to  help.  I  did  not 
tell  Texas  and  Pat,  but  Ynez  is  not  in  the  house.  I 
sent  her  away  this  evening  to  stay  with  a  friend  on 
the  other  side  of  town." 

"Si,  Senorita."  The  soft  voice  was  perplexed  and 
troubled. 

"Pablo,  I  am  going  to  the  power  house  to  help." 

"No,  no,  Senorita;  it  cannot  be." 

"Yes,  Pablo,  I  must." 

"But,  Senorita,  that  is  not  right." 

"You  will  go  with  me,  Pablo — and  no  one  will 
harm  me." 

"But  if  Senor  Lee  comes  ?" 

"When  he  finds  no  one  here  he  will  understand  and 
go  to  us." 

"No,  no,  Senorita;  you  must  not!  The  father — 
Senor  Texas,  and  Pat — they  will  kill  me.  La 
Senorita  does  not  want  Pablo  to  be  hurt." 

"Why  Pablo,  no  one  can  blame  you,  and  don't  you 
see  that  I  must  do  what  I  can  ?  Come ;  we  are  losing 
time.  We  must  not  be  too  late.  You  get  the  horses." 

She  went  quickly  into  the  house  and  when  she  came 
out  again  the  Mexican,  still  protesting,  held  the 
horses  ready. 

At  the  power  house  Texas  and  Pat  sat  just  inside 

423 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

the  main  entrance.  In  the  big  room  beyond  them  the 
great  dynamos  that  furnished  electricity  to  all  the 
towns  for  lights  and  supplied  the  ice  plant,  the  shops 
and  every  enterprise  needing  it  throughout  the  Basin 
with  power,  hummed  and  sang  their  monotonous  song 
of  industry.  In  front  of  the  building  a  large  arc 
light  made  the  immediate  vicinity  as  bright  as  day. 
On  every  side  of  all  the  buildings  in  the  group  where 
the  little  handful  of  white  men  stood  guard,  similar 
lights  had  been  placed  by  Abe  at  the  beginning  of  the 
trouble. 

aHowly  Mither,  wud  ye  look  at  that  ?"  came  from 
Pat  as  Barbara,  followed  by  Pablo,  rode  into  the 
circle  of  light.  With  an  oath  from  Texas  Joe  the 
two  men  ran  forward,  and  as  they  came  up  to  the 
riders  the  Irishman  cried:  "Fwhat  the  hell  are  ye 
doin'  here?  Fwhat's  the  matter?  Did  thim  divils 
go  to  the  house  first,  or  are  ye  crazy  ?" 

With  a  laugh  Barbara  dismounted  and,  telling 
Pablo  to  tie  the  horses  to  the  hitch  rack  a  short 
distance  away,  faced  the  astonished  men.  "There's 
nothing  wrong  at  the  house,  but  I  knew  you  must 
be  lonesome  here  so  I  came  to  see  you.  You  don't 
seem  a  bit  glad  to  see  me !" 

"Mither  av  Gawd !"  groaned  the  Irishman. 

Texas  called  to  Pablo.  "Bring  those  horses  back 
here." 

"Pablo,"  called  Barbara,  "do  as  I  told  you." 

The  Mexican  leading  the  horses  moved  on  toward 
the  hitching  place.  Texas  scratched  his  head  in  a 
puzzled  way,  while  Pat  grinned.  "Will  ye  roll  that 
in  yer  cigarette  an'  shmoke  it,  Uncle  Tex  ?" 

424 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

"I'll  have  to  take  a  shot  at  that  fool  greaser  for 
this,"  returned  Texas. 

"You'll  do  no  such  thing/'  declared  the  young 
woman.  "You  know  he  couldn't  help  himself." 

"Be  the  Powers,  ut's  us  that  should  know  that 
same !" 

"But  honey,  you  can't  stay  here.  There's  goin'  to 
be  trouble — real  trouble." 

"I  know  it,  Uncle  Tex,  that's  why  I  came  to  help." 

"To  help !"  The  two  men  looked  at  her  in  amaze 
ment. 

Before  they  could  find  words  for  a  question  Pablo 
came  running  back  to  them:  "They're  coming, 
Senorita!  Senor  Tex!  They're  coming!" 

He  was  right.  Texas  Joe  caught  Barbara  by  the 
arm  and  with  the  three  men  she  ran  into  the  build 
ing  just  as  the  crowd  of  Mexican  and  Indian  laborers 
reached  the  outer  edge  of  the  lighted  space. 

While  still  in  the  shadow  of  the  night  the  crowd 
halted  and  the  watchers  in  the  buildings  could  see 
them  across  the  broad  belt  of  light — a  stirring,  rest 
less  mass  of  men,  shadowy  and  indistinct.  ISTow  and 
then  a  single  figure  in  the  white  canvas  jumper, 
trousers  and  wide  sombrero  of  the  Mexicans,  or  wear 
ing  the  blue  overalls  and  black  shirt  decorated  with 
many  brightly  colored  ribbons  and  the  green,  yellow 
or  orange  head  cloth  of  the  Indians,  would  detach 
itself  from  the  main  company  and — coming  nearer — • 
would  stand  out  with  sudden  startling  clearness,  dis 
appearing  again  as  suddenly  in  the  dark  mass  as  it 
again  moved  farther  away. 

Here  and  there  in  the  confusion  of  dusky  moving 

425 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

forms  a  face  would  appear  as  someone,  looking  up  at 
the  electric  light  caught  its  rays  full  upon  his  swarthy 
features ;  or  the  watchers  would  catch  the  gleam  and 
flash  from  a  weapon,  a  belt  buckle  or  an  ornament  as 
the  mob  of  men  moved  uneasily  about. .  Still  farther 
away  the  restless,  stirring  mass  was  dissolved  in  the 
darkness  of  the  night. 

"They're  palaverin'  about  the  lights,"  said  Texas 
to  his  companions.  "Can't  jest  figure  the  deal  under 
Abe's  illumination.  They're  all  plumb  anxious,  but 
they's  nobody  wishful  to  make  himself  conspicuous." 

"Oh,  why  doesn't  Abe  come;  why  doesn't  he 
come  ?"  exclaimed  Barbara. 

"Av  the  saints  will  only  kape  thim  cholos  con- 
siderin',  the  lad  may  git  here  yet." 

Even  as  the  Irishman  spoke  the  crowd,  seemingly 
agreeing  upon  a  plan,  moved  forward  slowly  in  a 
body.  When  they  were  well  within  the  lighted  space 
Texas  drawled :  "Eight  here's  where  I  feel  moved  to 
address  the  meetin',"  and  throwing  open  the  door  he 
stepped  out  upon  the  platform,  which  was  built  to  the 
height  of  a  wagon-bed  above  the  level  of  the  ground 
with  steps  at  each  end. 

Standing  thus  in  the  bright  light  of  the  arc  that 
sputtered  over  his  head,  he  was  seen  instantly  by 
every  eye  in  the  crowd.  As  if  by  command  they 
halted,  standing  motionless,  their  dark  faces  turned 
toward  the  old  plainsman. 

Texas  spoke  in  their  own  tongue.  "Good  evening, 
men.  Why  do  you  come  here  at  this  time  of  the 
night  ?  What  do  you  want  ?" 

There  was  an  angry  shifting  to  and  fro  in  the 

426 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

mass  of  men,  and  a  Mexican  standing  well  to  the 
front  answered:  "What  should  we  want,  Senor 
Texas,  but  our  pay?  We  have  worked  four — five — 
seven  weeks  without  money.  We  must  have  money 
to  buy  food — clothes — tobacco." 

"Do  not  the  commissaries  in  the  camps  supply  you 
with  all  that  you  need  ?  Surely  you  can  wait  a  few 
hours  longer.  To-morrow  you  will  be  paid  every 
cent." 

"Manana,  manana;  always  to-morrow!  The  super 
intendent  promised  other  time — 'to-morrow.'  The 
superintendent  lied.  Now  we  will  not  wait  for 
to-morrow." 

Cries  of  approval  greeted  the  bold  speech. 

"But  we  cannot  pay  you  to-night.  We  have  not 
the  money  here." 

"That  is  too  bad  for  Senor  Worth,  then.  If  he 
cannot  pay  he  should  have  told  us  so  that  we  could 
work  for  the  Company.  The  Company  can  pay!" 

"But  Mr.  Worth  will  pay  to-morrow  morning." 

A  chorus  of  angry,  jeering  yells  greeted  this  re 
peated  promise,  with  cries  of  "Pronto  I",  "Esta  dia !", 
and  "No  manana !"— "Now !",  "To-day!",  and  "Not 
to-morrow!"  The  movement  toward  the  building 
began  again. 

Instantly  the  arms  of  the  man  on  the  platform 
were  extended  and  the  mob  saw  in  each  hand  the 
familiar  Colt's  forty-five  of  the  old  time  West. 

The  forward  movement  was  checked. 

"Men!"  cried  Texas,  in  his  deliberate  way,  "you 
cannot  come  any  nearer  these  buildings.  There  are 
Americans  here — friends  of  Mr.  Worth,  who  are 

427 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

ready  to  shoot  when  I  give  the  word.  I  can  kill 
twelve  of  you  myself  before  you  can  get  to  this  plat 
form.  Go  away  quietly  and  in  the  morning  you  will 
get  your  money.  Come  one  step  nearer  this  building 
and  many  of  you  will  die." 

The  moment  was  intense.  A  shot,  a  yell,  a  sudden 
movement  would  have  precipitated  a  tragedy. 

In  the  full  glare  of  the  light  against  the  blackness 
of  the  night,  the  crowd  of  dusky-faced,  picturesque 
laborers  hesitated.  Standing  on  the  platform  under 
the  arc  that  sputtered  and  sizzled — his  back  to  the 
building — the  single  figure  of  Texas  Joe  was  ready 
with  menacing  weapons.  Behind  the  brick  walls  the 
handful  of  armed  white  men  were  waiting — watch 
ing.  Miles  away  in  the  desert,  Abe  Lee  was  lying 
wounded  and  alone  under  the  still  stars,  and  some 
where  in  the  night  Willard  Holmes,  desperately  hold 
ing  his  seat  in  the  saddle,  was  forcing  his  already 
exhausted  horse  toward  the  end  of  his  mission. 

As  the  muscles  of  a  tiger  work  and  twitch  when 
the  beast  makes  ready  for  its  spring,  a  movement 
agitated  the  mob,  and  a  low  growling  murmur  came 
from  the  mass  of  men.  Texas  spoke  sharply. 
"Ready,  you  fellows  in  there !  If  they  start  let  them 
have  it." 

The  murmur  swelled  in  volume  into  an  angry, 
inarticulate  roar.  The  movement  increased.  An 
.instant  more  and  it  would  launch  the  mob  in  a  mad 
rush. 

Suddenly,  as  a  beast  checked  in  its  spring,  they 
were  still  and  motionless. 


428 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

By  the  side  of  the  old  frontiersman  on  the  platform 
under  the  light  stood  Barbara. 

"Let  me  speak  to  them,  Tex." 

Without  pausing  for  the  astonished  man  to  reply 
she  spoke  to  the  mob  in  Spanish,  her  voice  rising 
clearly  and  sweetly. 

"Do  you  know  me,  friends  ?" 

From  different  points  in  the  crowd  came  the 
answers. 

"Si,  Senorita."  "It  is  the  daughter  of  Senor 
Worth."  "Among  the  poor  in  Kubio  City  La  Senor 
ita  was  an  angel  of  mercy." 

"I  remember  many  of  you,"  Barbara  continued. 
"Over  there  I  see  Jose  Gallegos,  whose  wife  and  baby 
were  ill.  How  is  the  little  family  now,  Jose  ?  Manuel 
Cortes,  do  you  remember  when  you  were  hurt  by  a 
wicked  horse  and  I  would  come  to  see  the  wife  and 
children  ?  And  Pablo  Sanchez,  do  you  know  how 
long  you  were  without  work  until  with  father's  help 
I  found  a  place  for  you  ?  Francisco  Gonzales,  I 
helped  you  bury  your  mother  and  gave  money  to  the 
priest  that  masses  might  be  said  for  her  soul.  And 
you,  Juan  Arguello,  and  Francisco  Montez — I  re 
member  you  all,  and  I  am  glad  to  see  you.  But  I 
am  sorry  that  you  come  to  destroy  my  father's  build 
ings.  Why  do  you  wish  to  do  that  ?" 

The  Mexicans  whom  she  called  by  name  stirred 
uneasily  but  did  not  answer.  Those  who  had  known 
Barbara  in  Rubio  City  were  few  among  the  whole 
number  of  laborers,  and  to  these  others  she  was  only 
the  daughter  of  the  man  who  was  robbing  them  of 
their  pay. 

429 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

The  one  who  had  so  far  acted  as  spokesman  an 
swered  angrily.  "Must  we  say  again  what  we  want  ? 
If  you  are,  as  they  say,  an  angel  of  mercy,  give  us 
our  money  and  we  will  go  away." 

Cries  of  "Si,  si!",  "Bueno!",  "Muy  pronto!", 
"El  Dinero,"  and  "Give  us  our  money !"  arose  on  all 
sides. 

"You  shall  have  your  money  to-morrow — every 
penny.  Cannot  you  wait  until  to-morrow  morning  ?" 

The  impatient  cries  were  louder  now.  "La  Senor- 
ita  also  say  'manana.'  All  the  rich  say  all  time  to  the 
poor  'manana/  and  manana  never  come.  Give  us 
our  money  now."  The  cries  were  increasing  in  vol 
ume  as  man  after  man  joined  in  the  chorus  of  threat 
ening  protest. 

White  and  trembling,  Barbara  realized  that  she 
could  do  nothing  more.  Texas  said,  in  a  low  voice : 
"For  God's  sake,  honey ;  get  inside  before  they  break 
loose!  Go  now!  NOW!"  His  voice  rose  into  a 
sharp  command,  and  his  steady  hands  again  brought 
the  deadly  revolvers  into  position. 

The  young  woman  reluctantly  drew  a  step  back 
ward  in  obedience,  then  suddenly,  with  wide  eyes 
staring  over  the  crowd  into  the  darkness  beyond  and 
extended  hand  pointing,  she  sprang  forward  to  the 
very  edge  of  the  platform. 

"Texas!  Texas!  Look,  he  is  coming!  Abe  is 
here!" 

Overcome  with  emotion  she  swayed  and  would 
have  fallen,  but  Texas  caught  and  steadied  her. 
Every  man  in  the  crowd  turned  quickly  toward  the 
rear.  A  horseman,  shadowy  and  indistinct  beyond 

430 


THE  WINKING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

the  circle  of  light,  was  riding  toward  them.  As  tho 
newcomer  pushed  his  horse  nearer  and  they  saw  that 
it  was  Willard  Holmes,  Barbara  uttered  a  cry  and 
turned  away,  but  the  quick  eye  of  Texas  Joe  had  seen 
that  the  engineer's  horse  was  staggering  with  ex 
haustion  and  that  the  man  could  scarcely  keep  his 
seat  in  the  saddle. 

"Wait,  honey,"  he  said,  delaying  the  young 
woman.  "This  may  pan  out  yet." 

Barbara  paused  but  did  not  turn  toward  the  ap 
proaching  engineer.  Slowly  Holmes  forced  his 
horse,  reeking  with  sweat  and  dust,  into  the  crowd 
that  opened  for  him  to  pass  and  closed  in  behind 
him  with  excited  exclamations  as  the  men  saw  that 
the  rider  reeled  in  his  saddle — his  face  haggard  and 
drawn  with  pain  and  his  useless  left  arm  tied  to  his 
side. 

But  Barbara  still  turned  away  her  face. 

Coming  so  close  that  his  leg  almost  touched  the 
edge  of  the  platform,  the  engineer — as  though  he 
saw  no  one  but  her — held  out  the  black  leather  bill- 
book. 

"Miss  Worth !    Barbara !" 

With  a  cry  she  turned  as  the  rider  sank  and  would 
have  fallen  had  not  Texas,  reaching  out,  lifted  him 
bodily  from  the  saddle  to  the  platform  where  Holmes 
sank  unconscious. 

Barbara,  with  wonder  and  horror  in  her  face,  stood 
as  if  turned  to  stone,  while  Pat  and  Pablo  quickly 
carried  the  still  form  of  the  engineer  into  the  build 
ing.  Unable  to  move,  the  girl  followed  them  with 
her  eyes  until  Texas,  who  had  caught  up  the  leather 

431 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOETH 

bill-book,  exclaimed  with  an  oath:  "Look,  it's  the 
money !" 

She  looked  at  him  as  though  she  did  not  compre 
hend  and  he  held  the  bundle  of  bills  toward  her. 
"It's  the  money,  the  money !  You  tell  them !" 

Mechanically  Barbara  took  the  money  and  turned 
to  the  crowd  that  stood  silently  wondering  what  it  all 
meant — waiting  to  learn  whether  the  incident  had 
anything  to  do  with  their  pay. 

Under  the  powerful  light  she  held  up  her  two 
hands  filled  with  bills.  "Look!"  she  cried.  "Look! 
Here  is  the  money  for  your  pay.  My  father  sent  it. 
Now  will  you  believe  ?" 

Shouts  and  cheers  of  understanding  burst  from  the 
crowd. 

"It  is  for  you  that  it  is  here,"  continued  the  young 
woman.  "Will  you  go  away  now  and  come  back  in 
the  morning — each  man  for  what  is  his  ?" 

"Si,  si,  Senorita !  Gracias,  Senorita !"  Laughing, 
talking  and  gesticulating  the  crowd  dissolved  and 
moved  away. 

Before  the  dispersing  laborers  had  passed  beyond 
the  circle  of  light  Barbara  was  kneeling  beside  Wil- 
lard  Holmes. 

And  when  they  would  have  taken  the  engineer  to 
the  hotel  Barbara  said  "No" ;  he  must  be  taken  to 
her  home. 

Texas  had  just  finished  dressing  with  rude  surgery 
the  wound  in  the  engineer's  shoulder,  and  Barbara — 
standing  by  the  bedside — was  looking  down  into  the 
still  face  when  Holmes  slowly  came  back  to  con 
sciousness.  His  opening  eyes  looked  up  full  into  the 

432 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

brown  eyes  that  regarded  him  so  kindly.  For  a 
moment  neither  spoke,  but  a  slow  flush  of  color  crept 
into  the  girl's  face. 

By  some  strange  freak  of  his  half  awakened  intel 
lectual  faculties,  Holmes  was  living  over  again  the 
incident  of  his  meeting  Barbara  on  the  desert  the 
morning  after  her  first  arrival  in  Kingston.  "Is  it 
really  you,  or  is  it  some  new  trick  of  this  confounded 
desert?"  he  muttered.  "I  never  saw  a  mirage  like 
this  before.  I  don't  think  the  heat  has  affected  my 
brain!" 

To  Barbara  the  words  had  the  effect  of  suddenly 
blotting  out  all  that  had  come  between  them  and  of 
putting  them  both  back  again  to  the  day  when  they 
had  "started  square."  So  she  answered  as  she  had 
answered  then:  "I  assure  you  that  I  am  very  sub 
stantial" — and  added  softly,  "and  I  am  here  to  stay, 
too." 

"And  you  would  never  forgive  one  who  was  false 
to  the  work,"  muttered  the  engineer,  and  with  the 
words  his  mind  caught  at  the  suggestion  of  the  power 
that  had  enabled  him  to  keep  his  seat  in  the  saddle 
through  the  seemingly  endless  hours  of  torture,  and 
he  remembered  everything  up  to  the  moment  when 
he  had  handed  the  money  to  Barbara. 

With  an  exclamation  he  tried  to  raise  himself. 

"Don't  do  that.  You  must  lie  still,  Mr.  Holmes," 
said  the  young  woman. 

Texas  and  Pat  in  an  adjoining  room  heard  and 
came  quickly  to  Barbara's  side. 

"I  must  get  up,  men !"  cried  Holmes  appealingly, 
making  another  effort  to  raise  himself.  "We  must 

433 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

go  for  Abe  Lee.  He's  hurt — alone — out  there  in  the 
desert.  Why  don't  you  move?  Miss  Worth, 
please » 

Texas  Joe  quietly  forced  him  back  on  his  pillow. 
"You've  got  to  take  it  easy  for  a  little  while,  Mr. 
Holmes.  Get  a  grip  on  yourself  and  tell  us  plain 
what  happened.  We'll  move  fast  enough  when  we 
know  which  way  to  go." 

When  Holmes  had  told  them  briefly  the  story  of 
the  fight  in  Devil's  Canyon  and  how  he  had  left  Abe 
at  Wolf  Wells,  Texas  said :  "Now  Mr.  Holmes,  you 
just  keep  quiet  right  here.  Barbara'll  take  care  of 
you  and  we'll  have  Abe  home  before  noon  to-morrow. 
Also,  we'll  arrange  for  a  little  seance  with  them 
greasers  what  put  you  and  Abe  in  this  fix." 

An  hour  later  a  light  spring  wagon  with  four 
horses,  accompanied  by  a  party  of  five  mounted  men, 
moved  swiftly  out  of  Republic  toward  the  south. 


434 


CHAPTEK  XXXI. 
BARBARA'S  WAITIN'  BREAKFAST  FOR  YOU. 

|  LONE  on  the  desert,  Abe  Lee- waited  through 
the  long,  long  hours  of  the  night  for  the 
morning  and  relief. 
At  times  the  wounded  surveyor  sank  into  half 
unconsciousness  when  he  would  again  be  riding — 
riding — riding,  toward  San  Felipe  that  seemed 
almost  so  far  away  that  he  could  never  hope  to  reach 
the  end  of  his  journey.  Again  he  would  be  at  the 
hotel  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of  people,  who  stared 
at  him  curiously  as  the  clerk  explained  that  Jefferson 
Worth  had  never  been  there — that  there  was  no 
money — no  money — no  money.  At  other  times  he 
would  be  fighting  desperately  with  James  Greenfield 
for  the  possession  of  a  black  leather  bill-book  secured 
with  rubber  bands,  or — with  the  Company  engineer 
— would  face  a  crowd  of  Mexicans  in  Devil's  Canyon 
in  such  numbers  that  he  could  not  count  them,  but 
could  only  fight,  and  fight,  and  fight.  Often  Bar 
bara  came  to  plead  with  him  to  save  her  from  some 
terrible  danger,  and  when  he  would  struggle  to  go 
a  great  weight  held  him  down  and  he  could  not — and 
the  brown  eyes  looked  at  him  full  of  pleading  re 
proach.  Then  he  would  curse  and  cry  aloud  as  Wil- 
lard  Holmes  came  to  take  her  away  and  he  would 
watch  the  two  riding  into  the  distance  through  the 
green  fields  and  orchards  of  a  beautiful  land,  in  their 
happiness  forgetting  him  alone  in  the  desert. 

435 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

At  other  times,  fully  conscious,  he  lay  with  aching 
body  and  that  sharp  pain  in  his  leg,  looking  up  at  the 
stars,  calculating  the  time  and  the  distance  Holmes 
had  ridden  since  he  left  him — how  long  it  would  be 
until  the  engineer  would  reach  Eepublic — wondering 
if  Tex  and  Pat  could  hold  the  strikers  or  if  already 
it  was  too  late. 

Then  again,  when  his  mind  would  be  losing  its 
grip  and  slipping  away  into  the  land  of  half-dreams, 
the  sounds  made  by  some  animal  at  the  water  hole 
or  the  fancied  approach  of  the  Mexicans  would  cause 
him  to  start  into  keen  readiness,  to  listen  and  watch 
with  straining  sense  and  ready  weapon.  At  last  all 
knowledge  of  time  left  him.  His  exhausted  nerves 
and  muscles  no  longer  responded  to  suggestions  of 
danger,  his  brain  refused  to  act.  A  soft,  thick  cloud 
of  darkness  that  was  not  the  darkness  of  the  night 
settled  down  upon  him,  enveloped  him,  wrapped  him 
as  in  a  sable  blanket  of  many  folds — thicker  and 
thicker,  blacker  and  blacker.  Feebly  he  struggled 
against  it  for  a  little,  then  with  a  sigh  yielded  and 
lay  still. 

He  did  not  see  the  stars  pale  and  the  thin  streak 
of  light  above  the  eastern  rim  of  the  Basin  widen  into 
the  morning.  He  did  not  see  the  hills,  all  rose  and 
purple,  develop  magically  against  the  sky.  He  did 
not  see  the  sun  burst  into  view  from  the  world 
below  the  line  of  the  dun  plain  and  roll  its  flood  of 
light  over  the  wide  desert.  He  knew  nothing  more 
until  someone  was  forcing  something  between  his  lips 
and  a  grateful,  stimulating  warmth  crept  through 
his  veins.  A  familiar  voice  drawled:  "He  ain't 
a-goin'  out  this  time,  boys.  Hit  takes  more  than  one 

436 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

greaser  bullet  and  a  little  ride  to  San  Felipe  an' 
back  to  send  his  kind  over  the  line." 

And  a  rich  Irish  brogue  responded:  "Ut's  thim 
black  hathen  that'll  be  goin'  over  the  line  in  a  bunch 
av  I  can  git  widin  rache  av  thim  wid  me  two  hands." 

Abe  opened  his  eyes  with  a  smile.  "Mornin'  boys ! 
Did  Holmes  make  it  in  time  ?" 

An  articulate  yell  of  delight  from  Pat  greeted 
his  speech.  The  grizzled  plainsman,  with  a  smile  of 
understanding,  answered  his  question. 

"Sure  he  made  it.  Everything's  as  peaceful  as 
the  parson's  blessin'  after  his  discourse  on  the  eternal 
fires  of  torment.  Barbara's  waitin'  breakfast  for 
you,  son.  Wake  up,  an'  come  along." 

The  surveyor  did  not  need  to  ask  why  Texas  Joe 
had  brought  so  large  a  party  of  mounted  and  armed 
friends.  He  gave  Texas  and  his  companions  all  the 
information  he  could  that  would  help  them  in  their 
search  for  the  Mexicans. 

When  they  had  made  him  as  comfortable  as  possi 
ble  on  a  cot  in  the  spring  wagon,  with  Pat  beside 
him  and  Pablo  on  the  driver's  seat,  the  horsemen 
mounted  and  Texas  riding  alongside  the  wagon 
drawled :  "There  ain't  no  tellin'  when  we'll  get  back, 
Abe ;  but  I  don't  reckon  we'll  be  long  an'  there  ain't 
no  use  me  tellin'  you  to  take  things  easy.  So  adios !" 

"Adios,"  came  the  answer,  "and  good  luck !" 

Pablo  spoke  to  his  team  and  they  moved  ahead. 
For  a  moment  the  horsemen  watched,  then  Tex  spoke. 

"All  set,  boys?" 

"All  set,"  came  the  answer. 

Wheeling  about,  the  five  men  rode  -rapidly  in  the 
opposite  direction  towards  Devil's  Canyon. 

437 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 
BARBARA  MINISTERS  TO  THE  WOUNDED. 

ILLARD  HOLMES,  after  a  few  hours  of 
refreshing  sleep  and  a  good  breakfast  pre 
pared  and  served  by  his  hostess  with  her  own 
hands,  announced  himself  as  well  as  ever. 

"But  you  need  some  fixing  just  the  same,"  declared 
Barbara  as  the  Indian  woman  entered  the  room 
carrying  warm  water,  towels  and  bandages.  While 
the  young  woman  bent  over  the  engineer  and  with 
firm,  deft  fingers  removed  the  wrappings  from  his 
shoulder,  carefully  cleansed  the  wound  and  applied 
fresh  dressing  and  clean  bandages,  he  watched  her 
face,  so  near  his  own,  and  wondered  that  he  had 
ever  thought  her  plain.  Her  skin,  warmly  browned 
by  desert  sun  and  air,  was  fresh  and  glowing 
with  the  abundance  of  the  rich  red  life  in  her  veins ; 
her  brown  hair,  soft  and  wavy,  tempted  him  to  reach 
up  his  free  hand  and  put  back  a  rebellious  lock.  He 
moved  slightly  and  the  brown  eyes,  full  of  womanly 
pity,  met  his. 

"Does  it  hurt?" 

He  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  "Not  at  all.  In 
fact  I  think  I  rather  enjoy  it." 

Her  cheeks  turned  a  deeper  red  and  he  felt  her 
fingers  tremble  as  she  went  on  with  her  task. 

"If  you  laugh  at  me  I  shall  turn  you  over  to 
Ynez,"  she  threatened,  at  which  he  promised  so 

438 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

pitifully  to  be  good  that  she  smiled  and  he  stirred 
again  impatiently. 

"I  am  hurting  you !"  she  cried.  "I'm  so  sorry,  but 
I'm  almost  through —  There  now."  She  finished 
with  a  last  touch  and,  straightening,  put  back  herself 
that  rebellious  lock  of  hair. 

As  she  stood  before  him  beautifully  strong  and 
pure  and  fresh  and  clean  in  mind  and  heart  and 
body,  her  sweet  personality,  the  spirit  of  her  com 
plete  womanhood  swept  to  him — appealing,  calling, 
exhilarating,  invigorating,  strengthening,  as  he  had 
often  felt  the  early  air  of  the  sun-filled  morning 
sweeping  over  mountain  and  mesa  and  desert  plain. 

The  man  drew  a  long  deep  breath. 

"Tired?"  she  asked  softly,  looking  down  upon 
him  with  almost  a  mother's  look  in  her  eyes. 

"Heavens,  no!"  he  exclaimed,  his  voice  ringing 
out  strongly.  "I  feel  as  though  I  had  been  made 
over,  re-created." 

She  laughed  gladly. 

"Do  you  know,"  he  asked  earnestly,  "how  wonder 
ful  you  are  ?" 

"Nonsense !"  she  retorted.  "You  are  growing 
delirious.  You  must  be  quiet.  I'm  going  to  leave 
you  alone  for  a  little  while  now  and  you  must  sleep." 

She  followed  the  Indian  woman  from  the  room  and 
he  heard  her  voice  speaking  in  soft  musical  Spanish 
as  they  went. 

An  hour  later  Barbara,  moving  quietly  toward  his 
room  to  see  if  he  was  asleep  or  wanted  anything, 
found  him  fully  dressed  in  a  big  easy  chair  in  the 
living  room. 

439 


THE  WIPING  or  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

"Oh!"  she  exclaimed,  in  joyful  surprise.  "What 
are  you  doing  out  here?  I  thought  I  told  you  to 
sleep." 

"Your  orders  were  inconsistent,"  he  returned 
lazily.  "You  can't  cure  a  patient  and  still  continue 
treating  him  as  if  he  were  an  invalid.  I  don't  need 
sleep.  I  need —  Bring  your  chair  and  sit  over  here 
and  let  me  tell  you  what  I  need,"  he  finished. 

She  did  not  answer,  but  going  to  his  room  returned 
with  a  pillow,  which  she  arranged  deftly  behind  his 
head;  then,  kneeling,  adjusted  the  foot  rest  of  the 
reclining  chair.  "There ;  isn't  that  better  ?" 

"Bring  your  chair,"  he  insisted. 

Again  she  left  the  room,  returning  this  time  with 
a  bit  of  old  soft  muslin.  Drawing  her  easy  chair  to 
a  position  facing  him  she  seated  herself  and  began 
converting  the  material  in  her  hands  into  bandages. 
"The  men  will  be  here  with  Abe  any  time  now,"  she 
explained.  "I  have  everything  ready  except  these." 

For  a  little  while  he  watched  her  in  silence  as  she 
tore  the  white  cloth  into  long  strips  and  rolled  them 
neatly. 

"Don't  you  care  to  know  what  it  is  that  I  need  ?" 
he  asked  at  last. 

She  bent  her  head  over  her  work  and  answered 
softly:  "Whenever  you  are  ready  to  tell  me." 

"Before  I  can  tell  you  I  must  know  something." 

Carefully  she  rolled  another  white  strip,  her  eyes 
on  her  task.  "What  must  you  know  ?" 

"That  you  have  forgiven  me." 

The  color  rushed  into  her  cheeks  as  she  answered : 
"Don't  you  know  that  ?" 

440 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"But  I  must  hear  you  say  it  so  that  we  can  start 
square  again ;  don't  you  see  ?" 

"I  suppose  that  we  will  be  always  starting  over 
again,  won't  we?"  Then  as  she  saw  his  face  she 
added  quickly :  "I  mean — I — I  was  thinking  of  the 
Company — and — father's  work." 

"But  you  forgive  me  this  time  ?"  he  insisted. 

"Yes ;  I  forgive  you,  and  I  am  glad — so  glad  that 
I  can." 

"And  we  are  square  again?" 

"Yes;  we  are  square  again — until  next  time." 
She  added  the  words  sadly. 

"But  there  will  be  no  next  time." 

She  shook  her  head  with  a  doubtful  smile.  "The 
Company  will  make  a  'next  time.'  " 

He  laughed  aloud  with  a  sudden  sense  of  freedom 
that  was  new  to  him.  "But  you  do  not  know,"  he 
said,  "and  I  would  not  tell  you  until  we  were  square 
again.  I  am  not  with  the  Company  now." 

She  dropped  her  roll  of  bandages  and  looked  at 
him.  "Not  with  the  Company?  When  did  you 
resign  ?" 

"I  didn't  resign.     They  discharged  me." 

"Discharged  you  ?" 

"Yes ;  disgraceful,  isn't  it  ?  I  felt  pretty  bad  at 
first;  then  I  came  to  take  it  as  a  compliment;  and 
now — now  I  am  glad !" 

Then  he  told  her  why  Greenfield  had  sent  for  him ; 
how  he  had  met  the  Seer;  and  how  he  had  advised 
Cartwright  to  supply  the  money  her  father  needed. 

"And  you — you  did — that,  knowing  it  would  cost 
you  your  position?"  she  exclaimed.  .  "Oh,  I  am 

441 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

glad!  That  was  fine;  that  was  big — worthy  your 
ancestors !"  In  her  interest  she  was  leaning  towards 
him  with  flushed  cheeks  and  bright  eyes,  and  her 
voice  was  triumphant  as  if  in  some  subtle  way  she 
was  vindicated  through  his  victory.  The  engineer 
felt  her  attitude  and  knew  that  she  was  right.  It  was 
her  victory. 

"Barbara,"  he  said,  holding  out  his  hand;  "Bar 
bara,  may  I  tell  you  now  what  it  is  that  I  need  ?" 

Before  she  could  answer  they  heard  a  team  and 
wagon  coming  into  the  yard  beside  the  house.  Bar 
bara  sprang  to  her  feet.  "It  is  the  men  with  Abe !" 
she  exclaimed,  and  ran  out  of  the  room  on  to  the 
porch. 

From  where  he  lay  in  his  chair,  the  engineer  saw 
through  the  open  door  Pablo  and  Pat  coming  up  the 
steps  of  the  porch  carrying  the  surveyor  on  the  canvas 
cot,  and  Barbara  with  mute,  frightened  face  watch 
ing.  The  two  men  with  their  burden  entered  the 
room,  followed  by  the  young  woman,  and  carefully 
lowered  the  cot  to  the  floor.  The  long  form  of  the 
surveyor  lay  motionless,  his  eyes  closed. 

With  a  low  cry  Barbara  threw  herself  on  her 
knees  beside  the  cot.  With  one  arm  across  the  still 
form  of  the  only  brother  she  knew,  and  the  other 
pushing  back  the  rough  hair  from  his  forehead,  she 
bent  over,  looking  appealingly  into  the  thin  rugged 
face — her  own  face  alight  with  loving  anxiety. 

"Abe!  Abe!  Abe!"  she  called  softly;  then  again: 
"Abe !  See  dear ;  it's  Barbara." 

As  if  only  that  voice  had  power  to  call  him  back, 
the  man's  eyes  opened,  a  slow  smile  spread  over  his 

442 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

unshaven,  dust-stained  features,  and  his  voice  ex 
pressed  glad  surprise.  "Why,  hello,  Barbara!" 

Willard  Holmes,  who  had  half  risen  from  his 
chair  and  was  leaning  forward  watching  them  with 
burning  interest,  sank  back  with  a  groan  and  covered 
his  face  with  his  hands.  But  they  did  not  see. 

Still  kneeling  Barbara  took  a  glass  from  Ynez  and 
turned  again  to  the  injured  surveyor.  "Here,  Abe; 
drink  this." 

The  Irishman  lifted  him  in  his  huge  arms  and  he 
obeyed.  Then  as  he  lay  looking  up  into  Barbara's 
face,  again  that  slow  smile  came  and  he  said :  "Well, 
little  girl;  Holmes  made  it,  didn't  he?  That  buck 
skin  horse  of  Tex's  is  all  right,  and  Holmes — Holmes 
is  a  man !  He  sure  made  good !  How  is  he  ?" 

Holmes  rose  dizzily  and  came  forward.  "I'm  all 
right,  old  man,  and  so  will  you  be  when  Miss  Worth 
has  had  a  chance  at  you." 

Quickly  the  surveyor  glanced  from  the  engineer's 
face  to  that  of  the  young  woman,  whose  brown  eyes 
still  regarded  him  with  loving  solicitude.  "I  reckon 
you're  right,"  he  said  slowly. 

Then  Barbara  directed  them  to  carry  him  into  the 
room  she  had  prepared,  while  Willard  Holmes  re 
turned  to  his  chair  to  lie  with  closed  eyes,  suffering 
a  deeper  pain  than  the  pain  in  his  shoulder. 

When  his  wound  had  been  dressed  and  he  had 
eaten  the  tempting  meal  Barbara  brought,  Abe  fell 
asleep.  But  the  young  woman  would  not  leave  him 
for  long,  so  that  Holmes  saw  very  little  of  her  all  the 
rest  of  the  day.  Occasionally  she  would  run  into  the 
room  where  the  engineer  lay  to  ask  if  he  needed 

443 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

anything,  but  only  for  a  moment.  Sometimes, 
seeing  him  so  still,  she  thought  that  he  was  asleep 
and  withdrew  softly  without  speaking;  but  he  always 
knew. 

The  next  morning  Holmes  was  just  established  in 
the  big  reclining  chair  in  the  living  room  when  a 
peremptory  knock  called  Barbara  to  the  front  door. 
It  was  James  Greenfield. 

The  president  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irri 
gation  Company  was  greatly  agitated  and  he  scarcely 
noticed  the  young  woman  as  he  greeted  the  engineer 
with  affectionate  regard  that  was  genuine ;  explaining 
how  he  had  returned  to  Kingston  the  night  before 
and,  learning  of  Holmes's  injury  that  morning,  had 
hurried  to  him  at  once.  "But  I  can't  understand," 
he  exclaimed  half  angrily,  "how  you  ever  came  to  be 
mixed  up  in  this  affair.  When  I  missed  you  from 
the  hotel  I  supposed  of  course  that  you  had  taken  the 
train  back  to  Kingston  and  came  on  expecting  to  find 
you  there.  What  on  earth  possessed  you  to  go  off  on 
this  wild  ride  over  the  mountains  with  that  man  Lee  ? 
You  might  have  been  killed,  and  I — I — "  He  could 
not  put  into  words  the  horrid  thought  that  was  in  his 
mind — how,  had  the  Mexican's  bullet  gone  true,  he 
himself  would  have  been  responsible  for  the  death 
of  the  man  he  loved  as  his  own  son. 

Holmes — understanding  the  man's  thought — was 
touched  by  the  capitalist's  unusual  agitation,  and  for 
the  moment  did  not  attempt  to  reply.  Then  with  an 
attempt  at  lightness  he  said:  "Oh,  well;  it's  all 
coming  out  right,  Uncle  Jim.  Thanks  to  Miss 


444 


THE  WEENING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Worth's  care  I  am  nearly  well  now.  The  wound 
really  didn't  amount  to  much." 

As  he  spoke  he  looked  at  Barbara,  and  the  older 
man  also  turned  quickly  toward  the  young  woman 
who,  at  the  engineer's  words,  was  blushing  rosy  red. 

"  Father  and  I  owe  Mr.  Holmes  a  debt  we  can 
never  pay,"  she  said  quietly.  Then,  excusing  herself 
on  the  plea  that  her  other  patient  needed  her,  she  left 
the  room. 

When  the  two  men  had  watched  her  go,  Greenfield 
said  gently:  "This  is  a  bad  business,  Willard;  a 
damned  bad  business;  I'll  admit  that  I  was  angry 
when  you  turned  against  us  in  that  Cartwright  deal, 
but  confound  it,  boy!  I  admire  you  for  it  just  the 
same.  Your  father  would  have  done  just  as  you  did. 
It  was  that  finer  kind  of  honesty  that  made  him  a 
failure  in  the  business  where  the  rest  of  us  made 
fortunes,  but  we  all  loved  him  for  it,  and  your 
mother — "  he  looked  away  through  the  window  to 
ward  the  distant  mountains.  "You  understand,  don't 
you  Willard,  that  I  was  forced  to  let  you  go  when 
you  turned  the  Company  down  ?  My  directors  would 
never  stand  for  anything  else,  you  know.  You  don't 
feel  hard  toward  me,  lad,  because  I  had  to  let  you 
out?" 

"Certainly  not,  Uncle  Jim.  I  was  hurt  just  at 
first,  but  when  I  had  taken  time  to  think  it  over  I 
did  not  blame  you." 

"You  are  sure,  Willard  ?" 

"Sure,  Uncle  Jim." 

The  older  man  was  studying  the  engineer's  face 


445 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

intently.  "I  don't  know  what  it  is,  Willard,  but 
something  has  changed  you  since  you  came  into  this 
country.  You  know,  my  boy,  that  I  have  no  one  in 
the  world  but  you.  All  that  I  have  will  be  yours. 
I  have  dreamed  and  planned  for  you  as  for  my  own 
flesh  and  blood.  I  am  telling  you  this  now  because 
I  have  felt  that  something  was  taking  you  away 
from  me.  Something  that  I  cannot  understand  has 
come  between  us.  I  felt  it  the  moment  I  met  you  in 
Kingston  and  it  has  been  growing  ever  since.  It 
was  that  that  made  me  so  angry  over  the  Cartwright 
business.  You  know  how  I  hate  the  West;  you 
know  what  it  cost  me  years  ago.  I  feel  now  that  in 
some  way  I  am  losing  you  too.  What  is  it,  Willard, 
that  has  come  between  us  ?  Let's  clean  it  up  and  get 
back  in  our  relations  to  where  we  were  before  we 
left  home." 

As  James  Greenfield  made  his  appeal  the  engi 
neer's  eyes  turned  involuntarily  toward  the  door 
through  which  Barbara  had  left  the  room.  And 
when  he  did  not  answer  immediately  the  older  man 
was  sure  that  he  understood  what  it  was  that  had 
come  between  himself  and  the  son  of  the  woman  he 
loved,  and  why  Holmes  had  used  his  influence  in 
behalf  of  Jefferson  Worth. 

"Is  it  that  girl,  Willard?" 

The  younger  man  faced  him  squarely  and  his 
answer  meant  much  more  to  the  engineer  himself 
than  he  could  have  explained  to  Greenfield.  "Yes 
sir,  it  is  this  girl." 

"You  love  her?" 

"As  my  father  must  have  loved  my  mother." 

446 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

At  the  simple  words  Greenfield  controlled  himself, 
but  his  hatred  for  Jefferson  Worth  was  very  bitter. 
That  he  should  fail  to  win  in  the  business  warfare 
with  the  western  man  was  nothing,  but  that  Worth — 
through  his  daughter — should  rob  him  of  the  son  that 
was  more  than  a  son  to  him  was  more  than  he  could 
bear. 

"But,  my  dear  boy,"  he  said;  "think  what  this 
means !  Think  of  your  family — of  your  father  and 
mother — of  your  friends  and  your  future  back  home. 
Who  are  these  people?  They  are  nobodies.  This 
man  Worth  is  an  ignorant,  illiterate,  common  boor 
with  no  breeding,  no  education — nothing  but  a  cer 
tain  native  cunning  that  has  enabled  him  to  make 
a  little  money.  We  have  nothing  in  common  with 
his  class." 

"Mr.  Worth  is  an  honest,  honorable  man  who  is 
doing  a  great  work,"  answered  Holmes  stoutly ;  "and 
his  daughter  is —  Uncle  Jim,  she  is  the  most  won 
derful  woman  I  ever  knew !" 

As  Willard  Holmes  spoke,  Barbara,  coming  from 
the  kitchen  into  the  dining  room,  could  not  help 
hearing  the  words  that  came  through  the  partly 
opened  door  of  the  living  room  where  the  men  were 
talking.  Involuntarily  at  the  sound  of  the  engineer's 
voice  the  red  blood  crept  into  the  young  woman's 
face  and  her  eyes  shone  with  pleasure.  The  next 
moment  Greenfield's  voice  held  her  motionless. 

"But  don't  you  know  that  she  is  not  Worth's 
daughter  ?" 

"Not  his  daughter  ?"  exclaimed  Holmes. 

"No,  not  his  daughter.     She  is  a  nameless  waif 

447 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOKTII 

whom  he  picked  up  and  adopted.  No  one  knows 
her  parentage — not  even  her  name.  She  may  even 
have  Mexican  or  Indian  blood  in  her  veins  for  all 
that  anyone  knows." 

It  was  not  strange  that  Willard  Holmes  had  never 
heard  the  story  of  how  Barbara  was  found  in  the 
desert.  In  the  new  country,  where  most  of  the  engi 
neer's  life  in  the  West  had  been  spent,  comparatively 
few  beyond  Worth's  most  intimate  associates  knew 
that  she  was  the  banker's  daughter  only  by  adoption. 
Greenfield,  who  had  learned  the  story  while  inquiring 
for  business  reasons  into  the  history  of  his  com 
petitor,  told  the  young  man  briefly  of  the  finding  of 
the  unknown  child. 

"Don't  you  see,  my  boy,"  finished  the  financier, 
"how  impossible  it  is  that  .you  should  give  your  name 
— one  of  the  oldest  and  best  in  the  history  of  the 
country — to  a  nameless  woman  of  unknown  breed 
ing,  whose  connection  with  this  man  Worth  even  is 
merely  accidental?  It  would  ruin  you,  Willard. 
Think  of  your  friends  back  home !  How  would  they 
receive  her?  Think  of  me — of  my  plans  for  you! 
I — I  should  feel  that  I  had  been  false  to  your  mother, 
Willard,  who  gave  you  to  me  on  her  death-bed,  if  I 
permitted  such  a  thing  as  this.  It's — it's  mon 
strous  !" 

Slowly  the  engineer  raised  his  head  and  with  a 
smile  on  his  white  face  that  hurt  the  older  man,  he 
said :  "I  can  at  least  relieve  your  mind  on  that  score, 
Uncle  Jim.  You  need  not  fear  that  I  will  marry 
Miss  Worth." 

At  his  words  from  beyond  that  partly  closed  door, 

448 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

Barbara  made  her  way  blindly  to  her  own  room  and, 
throwing  herself  face  downward  on  her  couch,  strove 
with  clenched  hands  and  throbbing  veins  to  keep  her 
self  control.  She  must  not — she  must  not  let  them 
know,  she  whispered  to  herself — moaning  in  pain. 
She  must  go  to  them  again  in  a  moment — and  they 
must  not  know. 

While  the  woman  whom  Willard  Holmes  loved 
fought  for  strength  to  hide  her  pain,  James  Green 
field,  in  the  other  room,  was  leaning  eagerly  toward 
the  engineer.  "She  has  refused  you  ?" 

"I  have  not  asked  her.  But  don't  misunderstand 
me.  What  you  have  told  me — what  my  friends  at 
home  might  think  or  do — could  make  no  difference. 
Barbara  Worth  is  worthy  any  man's  love;  and  I 
love  her  and  would  make  her  my  wife.  I  would 
give  up  even  you  for  her,  Uncle  Jim.  It's  not  that. 
It's  because  I  know  that  she  loves  someone  else  too 
well  to  listen  to  me." 


449 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 
WILLARD  HOLMES  RECEIVES  HIS  ANSWER. 

HEN  Barbara  returned  to  the  living  room 
with  some  trivial  excuse  to  explain  her 
rather  long  absence,  she  found  Holmes  de 
termined  to  go  with  Mr.  Greenfield  to  his  rooms  in 
the  hotel  in  Kingston. 

When  she  protested  he  answered:  "Really,  Miss 
Worth,  my  shoulder  troubles  me  so  little  that  I  am 
ashamed  to  offer  myself  as  an  invalid ;  and  now  that 
Uncle  Jim  is  with  me  I  haven't  the  shadow  of  an 
excuse  for  burdening  you  any  longer." 

"I  am  sorry  if  I  have  made  you  feel  that  you  were 
a  burden,"  she  returned  with  a  brave  smile. 

He  answered  warmly :  "You  know  I  did  not  mean 
to  imply  that.  I  shall  never  forget  your  kindness — 


never." 


Greenfield  too  expressed  his  appreciation  of  her 
kindness  but  she  answered  the  engineer  as  if  she  had 
not  heard  the  older  man.  "And  I  can  never  thank 
you  for  what  you  have  done  for  us." 

As  they  stood  on  the  porch  while  Greenfield  went 
on  ahead  to  the  buggy,  Holmes  held  out  his  hand. 
"And  we  are  square  again  ?" 

"Yes,  we  are  square." 

"Then  adios,  Senorita." 

"Adios,  amigo." 

450 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Bravely  she  stood  watching  until  the  carriage  dis 
appeared  down  the  street.  Then  she  went  slowly 
into  the  house  to  Abe's  room. 

The  surveyor  lay  propped  up  in  bed  with  pillows, 
looking  quite  cheerful.  "Well,  sister,"  was  his 
greeting;  "you  have  lost  one  patient  and  you  are 
going  to  lose  the  other  one  before  long.  I  feel  like 
a  new  man  already." 

For  a  little  she  made  no  answer  and,  as  she  stood 
before  him  silent,  those  eyes  that  were  trained  to  let 
nothing  escape  their  notice  studied  her  face  and 
noted  her  hands  clasped  in  nervous  pain.  "Why, 
Barbara!  What  is  it,  sister?  What  has  gone 
wrong  ?" 

At  his  words  the  brown  eyes  filled. 

"Barbara!" 

She  dropped  into  the  chair  by  the  bedside  and, 
throwing  herself  toward  him,  buried  her  face  in  her 
arms  in  the  pillow  by  his  side,  her  form  shaking 
with  sobs. 

The  surveyor's  face  was  white  now  under  its 
bronze — white  and  set.  Lightly  he  placed  his  hand 
upon  the  soft  brown  hair  so  near  his  shoulder  and  his 
eyes  seemed  now  to  be  looking  far  away.  When  her 
grief  had  spent  itself  a  little  he  said  quietly :  "Don't 
you  think,  sister,  that  you  had  better  tell  me  about 
this?" 

When  she*  did  not  answer  he  said  again  gently: 
"Do  you  care  for  him  so  much,  Barbara?" 

The  brown  head  nodded  her  confession  and  for  a 
moment  the  man  closed  his  eyes  and  turned  away  his 
face.  Then :  "Won't  you  let  me  help  ;f ou  ?" 

451 


THE  WLSmSQ  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

Slowly,  with  many  pauses,  she  told  him  what  she 
had  overheard.  When  she  had  finished  Abe  said 
simply:  "But  he  has  not  told  you  of  his  love,  Bar 
bara.  Perhaps  you  are  mistaken." 

"No,  Abe;  I'm  not  mistaken.  He  has  not  told 
me — not  in  words,  but  I  know ;  I  know !" 

"Then/5  said  the  surveyor,  "he  will  tell  you. 
Listen,  Barbara.  The  man  who  went  through  those 
Mexicans  in  Devil's  Canyon  with  me  is  not  the  kind 
of  a  man  who  gives  up  the  woman  he  loves  for  what 
others  think.  Wait  a  little,  dear,  and  you  will  see 
that  I  am  right.  You  have  been  too  quick.  Be 
patient  a  little  and  you  shall  see." 

"But  Abe,  Mr.  Greenfield  is  right.  I  am  a  name 
less  nobody;  and  he — he  is — " 

"He  is  a  man  and  you  are  a  woman,  and  this  is 
La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios  where  nothing  else 
matters,"  said  Abe  Lee  almost  sternly. 

A  few  minutes  later,  when  Barbara  was  gone,  the 
surveyor  slipped  lower  on  the  pillows  and  wearily 
turned  his  face  to  the  wall.  Several  times  that  day 
Barbara  looked  in  on  him  and  at  last,  when  he  had 
not  moved  for  so  long,  called  him  softly.  He  an 
swered  with  a  smile,  but  when  she  had  arranged  his 
pillows  for  him  he  closed  his  eyes  again  with  a  word 
of  thanks. 

Jefferson  Worth  arrived  that  evening  and  with  him 
came  the  Seer,  who  had  joined  him  in  the  city  by  the 
sea.  But  Barbara's  joy  at  their  coming  was  over 
shadowed  by  her  anxiety  for  Abe,  who  seemed  to  have 
fallen  into  a  half-unconscious  condition  that  was 
alarming.  When  they  entered  his  room  the  surveyor, 

452 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

who  still  lay  with  his  face  to  the  wall,  did  not 
look  up. 

"Daddy  is  here,  Abe,"  said  Barbara;  "Daddy  and 
the  Seer." 

Slowly  the  man  turned  toward  them  and  held  out 
his  hand  with  a  word  of  greeting  for  each.  "I'm 
mighty  glad  you  have  come,"  he  added;  "Barbara 
has  had  rather  more  than  her  hands  full." 

But  the  old  engineer  noticed  that  he  did  not  look 
at  Barbara  as  he  spoke. 

While  the  three  were  at  supper  Barbara  told  the 
men  the  whole  story,  and  when  they  had  finished  the 
meal  the  Seer  said:  "Now  Jeff,  I  know  you  have 
important  business  needing  your  immediate  attention 
and  our  girl  here  must  have  a  good  night's  rest — she 
has  been  through  enough  to  kill  an  average  woman. 
I'm  going  to  take  care  of  Abe  to-night  myself." 

When  his  old  chief  was  alone  with  the  surveyor  he 
drew  a  chair  to  the  bedside  and  sat  for  some  time 
looking  at  the  man  on  the  bed.  Then  he  said:  "I 
think,  son,  that  you  and  I  had  better  get  to  the  bottom 
of  this.  First,  I'll  have  a  look  at  that  leg." 

When  the  examination  was  over  the  big  man  eyed 
the  surveyor.  "Humph!  This  is  not  a  scratch  be 
side  what  that  greaser  did  to  you  with  his  knife  in 
Arizona.  You  didn't  even  stop  work  for  that.  Your 
ride  to  San  Felipe  and  back  ordinarily  would  call  for 
about  twelve  hours  sleep  and  that's  all.  Come,  lad, 
what's  the  matter  ?  Out  with  it." 

Abe  smiled.     "I'm  down  and  out,  I  reckon." 

"Down  and  out,  hell !"  returned  the  big  man. 
"That  won't  do,  Abe.  You  forget  that  you  are  talk- 

453 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

ing  to  me."  Then  he  leaned  forward  and  spoke  in  a 
low  tone.  "I  know  what  it  is,  my  boy.  It's  Bar 
bara.  "  By  the  pain  in  the  surveyor's  eyes  the  Seer 
knew  that  he  was  right. 

Then  the  Seer  in  his  own  way  did  for  Abe  what 
Abe  had  done  for  Barbara. 

When  the  young  woman  brought  in  his  breakfast 
the  next  morning  Abe  greeted  her  with  his  old 
cheery  "Hello!",  and  declared  facetiously  that  the 
Seer  had  talked  him  into  a  sleep  from  which  he  had 
awakened  as  hungry  as  a  bear  and  ready  to  go  to 
work. 

Two  days  later  Texas  Joe,  who  had  ridden  in  from 
somewhere  late  the  night  before,  came  to  report. 

"We  were  beginning  to  think  that  you  were  not 
coming  back  at  all,  Uncle  Tex,"  said  Barbara,  who 
with  the  others  was  curious  to  hear  of  the  old-timer's 
adventure. 

"I  'lowed  once  mebbe  I  wouldn't  come  back  no 
more  neither,"  he  drawled.  "You  see,  Mr.  Worth, 
after  we-all  got  Abe  at  Wolf  Wells  I  figured  that — 
bein'  so  far  on  the  way — I  might  as  well  go  on  over 
to  Felipe  an'  get  that  ol'  buckskin  hawss  o'  mine 
what  Abe  had  left."  He  paused,  and,  turning  his 
head  to  one  side,  looked  meditatively  down  at  the 
spur  on  his  high-heeled  boot.  "That  there  buckskin 
is  sure  some  hawss,  Barbara;  he  sure  is." 

"Did  you  get  him  ?"  asked  Barbara. 

Texas  looked  up,  mildly  surprised.  "Sure  we  got 
him.  That's  what  I'm  a-tellin'  you." 

Then  he  laughed  softly  as  though  mildly  amused 
at  some  incident  suddenly  remembered.  "Abe,  you 

454 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBARA  WORTH 

know  that  greaser  that  tumbled  into  the  Dry  River 
Spillway  when  we-all  was  puttin'  in  Number  Five 
Gate?" 

"Yes." 

"I  'lowed  you'd  know  him.  I  heard  somethin' 
funny  about  him  when  I  was  in  San  Felipe  after 
that  buckskin." 

"What  was  it,  Texas  ?" 

"He's  daid." 

The  recovery  of  the  two  wounded  men  was  rapid. 
For  a  while  Holmes  came  over  from  Kingston  every 
day  to  see  Lee,  and  the  two,  with  the  Seer  and  Bar 
bara,  spent  many  delightful  hours  on  the  big  front 
porch. 

Jefferson  Worth's  enterprises  pushed  steadily  to 
ward  completion.  The  power  plant  in  Barba  was 
finished  and  The  King's  Basin  Central  had  stretched 
its  steel  length  from  the  junction  at  Republic  to 
within  three  miles  of  the  terminal. 

When  Abe  was  able  to  go  back  to  his  work,  Holmes 
did  not  go  so  often  to  the  Worth  home ;  but  the  pres 
ence  of  the  Seer  still  enabled  him  to  excuse  to  him 
self  his  quite  frequent  visits.  But  while  the  young 
engineer  continually  sought  the  Seer,  not  only  be 
cause  of  their  growing  friendship  but  because  he  was 
always  sure  of  meeting  Barbara,  he  avoided  seeing 
the  girl  alone  for  he  felt  that  he  could  not  trust 
himself;  and  the  young  woman,  feeling  his  attitude 
toward  her,  was  convinced  against  her  will  and  Abe's 
protest  that  the  man  who  loved  her  guarded  himself 
against  her  for  the  reasons  that  she  had  overheard 
Greenfield  urge  upon  him. 

455 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

Then  Holmes  received  a  letter  from  the  South 
western  and  Continental  Railroad  Company  offering 
him  a  position  that  would  place  him  at  the  head  of 
the  engineering  department  of  the  district  that  in 
cluded  The  King's  Basin.  The  letter  stated  that  the 
position  was  tendered  on  recommendation  of  Jeffer 
son  Worth  and,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the  flood 
season  was  at  hand  and  that  conditions  seriously 
threatening  to  the  Company's  property  might  be 
expected  at  any  hour,  urged  him  to  accept  by  wire 
and  take  charge  immediately. 

With  the  letter  in  his  hand  a  sudden  desire  to  go 
with  it  to  Barbara  mastered  him.  He  knew  that  the 
Seer  had  planned  to  go  that  morning  with  Abe  Lee 
to  Barba  and  that  the  young  woman  was  alone. 

An  hour  later  he  dismounted  in  front  of  the  Worth 
home.  Barbara  herself  met  him  at  the  door.  "The 
Seer  is  not  at  home  to-day,"  she  said,  as  they  en 
tered  the  living  room.  "I  thought  you  knew." 

"I  did  not  come  to  see  the  Seer  to-day.  I  came 
to  see  you,"  he  answered  bluntly. 

"To  see  me  ?" 

"Yes;  to  ask  you  how  I  shall  answer  this."  He 
handed  her  the  letter. 

She  read  it  slowly,  gaining  time  for  self-control. 
"But  I  do  not  understand  why  you  should  come  to 
me." 

He  studied  her  face  a  moment  before  he  answered. 
How  could  he  explain  to  her  the  impulse  that  had 
prompted  him,  as  every  man  is  prompted  to  take  the 
big  things  of  his  life  to  the  one  woman  who — if  she 
be  really  the  one  woman  for  him — is  more  than  all  ? 

456 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

"I  thought — I  hoped  that  you  would  be  interested," 
he  said. 

"And  I  am!"  she  cried  eagerly,  feeling  that  which 
he  could  not  put  into  words.  "Of  course  I'm  inter 
ested.  I  was  only  surprised  that  you  should  hesitate 
a  moment  to  accept.  Don't  you  want  to  continue 
your  work  ?  Don't  you  want  to  stay  with  us  ?"  She 
added  the  last  words  wistfully  and  the  heart  of  the 
man  longed  to  tell  her  that  which  she  longed  to  hear. 

"Yes,"  he  said  slowly,  "I  want  to  stay,  but  I — I 
am  afraid."  The  words  slipped  out  unbidden. 

Barbara  interpreted  his  answer  in  the  light  of  his 
conversation  with  Greenfield,  which  she  had  over 
heard,  and  her  woman's  pride  was  aroused.  He 
should  be  made  to  understand  that  he  was  in  no 
danger  from  her.  Her  next  words  were  a  challenge. 
"Afraid  of  what?" 

"Afraid  of  you,"  he  burst  forth  savagely.  "Afraid 
of  myself.  Because  I  love  you.  From  the  first  day 
when  you  showed  me  the  desert  you  have  been  so 
closely  associated  in  my  mind  with  this  work  that  I 
cannot  think  of  it  without  thinking  of  you.  Every 
thing  I  have  done  I  have  felt  was  done  for  you.  I 
would  have  given  it  all  up  a  hundred  times  but  my 
thoughts  of  you  would  not  let  me.  When  I  have  been 
untrue  to  the  work  I  have  felt  that  I  have  been 
untrue  to  you.  If  I  have  accomplished  any  good  here 
it  has  been  through  you.  Everywhere  I  have  gone  in 
this  country  you  have  seemed  to  me  to  be  there. 
Everything  I  see  speaks  to  me  of  you.  The  desert — 
the  mountains — the  farms  and  homes  and  towns;  it 
is  all  you — and  you — and  you.  I  did  not  realize  it 

457 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOKTH 

at  first,  but  I  felt  it,  and  then  as  I  came  to  love  my 
work  I  came  to  love  you.  I  did  not  intend  to  tell 
you  this.  I  hate  myself  for  telling  you — but  I  love 
you.  I  love  you!  Do  you  understand  now  why  I 
came  to  you  with  this  letter?  Do  you  understand 
why  I  am  afraid  to  stay  ?" 

At  the  man's  passionate  outburst  that  came  as  if 
dragged  from  him  against  his  will,  Barbara  shrank 
back  as  if  he  threatened  her.  He  had  not  asked  if 
she  loved  him;  he  had  only  spoken  brutally — sav 
agely,  of  his  passion  for  her.  She  repeated  insist 
ently,  blindly,  to  herself :  "He  must  not  know !  He 
must  not  know !" 

The  man  spoke  again.  "Forgive  me,  Miss 
Worth ;  I  did  not  mean  to  let  go  of  myself.  I  know 
how  you  love  this  work — how  hard  you  have  tried  to 
hold  me  true  to  it.  I  could  not  bear  that  you  should 
think  of  me  as  leaving  it  without  reason.  But  you 
see — you  see  how  impossible  it  is  now  for  me  to  stay." 

As  he  spoke,  a  running  horse  stopped  suddenly  in 
front  of  the  house  and  through  the  open  door  they 
saw  Pablo  leap  from  the  saddle  and  run  swiftly  up 
the  walk  toward  the  house. 

"Senorita !"  the  Mexican  cried,  as  Barbara  sprang 
towards  him;  "the  river!  the  river!  It  has  come. 
The  Company  works — it  is  all  gone!  Senor  Worth 
send  me  quick  to  tell  Senor  Holmes.  I  go  to  Kings 
ton;  he  not  there.  They  say  he  ride  this  way.  I 
come  to  you,  Senorita;  I  think  maybe  you  know 
where  I  find  him."  He  turned  to  the  engineer. 
"Senor  Holmes,  the  river  has  come  again  into  La 
Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios  like  the  Indians  say  it 

458 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTII 

was  long  time  ago.  Senor  Worth  say  you  come  please 
pronto !" 

Barbara  wheeled  on  the  engineer  with  flushed 
cheeks  and  blazing  eyes. 

"This  is  your  answer!"  she  cried.  "Not  for  me; 
not  for  yourself;  but  for  the  work — your  work — our 
work!" 

For  an  instant  he  looked  into  her  eyes,  then  turned 
and  ran  towards  his  horse  with  Pablo  at  his  heels. 

Barbara  saw  them  spring  into  their  saddles  and 
disappear  in  a  cloud  of  dust,  and  the  engineer,  as  he 
rode,  remembered  what  Abe  Lee  had  once  told  him  of 
Pablo's  saying:  "In  the  Company  there  is  no 
Senorita!" 


459 


CHAPTEK  XXXIV. 
BATTLING  WITH  THE  RIVER. 

|OME  day,  perhaps,  the  history  of  that  Eiver 
war  will  be  written.  It  can  only  be  sug 
gested  in  my  story. 

It  was  a  war  of  terrific  forces  waged  for  a  great 
cause  by  men  as  brave  as  any  who  ever  fought  with 
weapons  that  kill. 

The  attacking  force  was  the  Eio  Colorado  that 
with  power  immeasurable  had,  through  the  ages  past, 
carved  mile-deep  canyons  on  its  course  and  with  its 
mountains  of  silt  had  built  the  great  delta  dam  across 
the  ancient  gulf,  thus  turning  back  the  waters  of  the 
sea  that  sun  and  wind  might  lay  bare  the  floor  of 
the  Basin  and  work  the  desolation  of  the  desert. 

Using  the  Seer's  open  hand  for  his  map  of  La 
Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios,  Jose,  the  Indian,  had 
traced  the  course  of  the  river  along  the  base  of  the 
fingers  flowing  toward  the  gulf  which  lies  between 
the  edge  of  the  palm  and  the  thumb — this  same  inner 
edge  of  the  hand  representing  roughly  the  high 
ground  that  shuts  out  the  waters  of  the  sea.  The 
thousands  of  acres  of  The  King's  Basin  lands  lie 
from  sea  level  to  nearly  three  hundred  feet  below. 
The  river  at  the  point  where  the  intake  for  the  system 
of  canals  was  located  is,  of  course,  higher  than  sea 
level,  for  the  waters  that  pass  the  intake  flow  on 
southward  to  the  gulf. 

460 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

It  was  the  river  flowing  thus  on  higher  ground  that 
made  irrigation  and  reclamation  of  the  desert  pos 
sible.  It  was  this  also  that  made  possible  the  dis 
aster  that  was  now  upon  the  hardy  pioneers,  who 
had  staked  everything  in  their  effort  to  realize  the 
vast  potential  wealth  of  the  ancient  sea-bed.  The 
grade  from  the  river  at  the  intake  to  the  lowest  point 
in  the  bottom  of  the  Basin  is  much  steeper  than  the 
established  fall  of  the  river  from  the  intake  to  the 
gulf.  The  water  in  the  canals  on  this  steeper  grade 
was  controlled  by  headings,  spillways,  gates  and 
drops,  while  the  structure  at  the  intake,  with  gates 
to  regulate  the  flow  into  the  main  canal,  prevented  the 
river  from  leaving  its  old  channel  altogether,  pouring 
its  entire  volume  into  the  Basin  and  in  time  con 
verting  it  again  into  an  inland  sea. 

The  dangerously  cheap  and  inadequate  character 
of  the  vital  parts,  built  by  the  Company  upon  the 
usual  promoter's  estimates,  had  led  Abe  Lee  to  pro 
test  against  the  risk  forced  upon  the  settlers  and  had 
finally  caused  him  to  resign.  Later,  as  the  Company 
system  of  canals  was  extended  and  more  and  more 
water  was  needed  to  supply  the  rapidly  increasing 
acreage  of  cultivated  lands,  Willard  Holmes  came 
to  appreciate  the  desert-bred  surveyor's  view  of  the 
danger  and  insistently  urged  his  employers  to  supply 
him  with  funds  to  replace  the  temporary  wooden 
structures  with  safe  and  lasting  works  of  concrete 
and  steel. 

But  the  hunger  of  Capital  for  profits  forbade. 
Some  day  the  work  would  be  done,  the  directors 
promised.  In  the  meantime,  without  increasing  the 

461 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WORTH 

original  investment  by  so  much  as  a  dollar  but  with 
the  revenues  derived  from  the  sale  of  water  rights, 
they  were  extending  the  system  to  supply  the  ever 
increasing  fields  of  the  settlers,  thus  shrewdly  forcing 
the  people,  who  were  ignorant  of  the  terrible  risk 
they  were  carrying,  to  supply  the  funds  to  build  the 
canals  and  ditches  that  belonged  to  the  Company; 
while  for  the  water  carried  to  the  ranches  the  farm 
ers  continued  to  pay  the  Company  large  rentals.  The 
original  investment  of  the  Company  was  very  small 
compared  with  the  thousands  invested  by  the  pioneers 
who  had  been  induced  to  settle  in  the  new  country. 
And  yet  from  every  dollar  of  the  wealth  taken  from 
the  land  the  Company  would  receive  a  share. 

But  the  Eio  Colorado  gave  no  heed  to  the  decree 
of  the  New  York  financiers.  The  forces  that  had 
made  La  Palma  de  la  Mano  de  Dios  are  not  ruled 
by  Wall  street. 

Willard  Holmes,  who  had  come  to  understand  that 
his  work  was  not  alone  to  safeguard  the  property  of 
his  employers  but  to  protect  the  interests  of  the  pio 
neers  as  well,  had  been  discharged  because  he  would 
not  deliver  the  people  wholly  into  the  hands  of  the 
Company.  A  new  engineer  out  of  the  East,  as 
faithful  to  the  interests  of  Capital  as  he  was  unfa 
miliar  with  conditions  in  the  new  country,  was  placed 
in  charge. 

It  was  as  if  the  river,  in  the  absence  of  the  man 
whose  constant  readiness  had  held  it  in  check,  saw  its 
opportunity.  Swiftly  it  mustered  its  forces  from 
mountain  and  plain.  Hundreds  of  miles  away  it 
gathered  its  strength  and  hurried  to  the  assault.  The 

462 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

sources  of  information  established  by  Holmes  on  the 
tributaries  and  headwaters  wired  their  reports:  a 
foot  rise  on  the  Gila;  three  feet  coming  down  the 
Little  Colorado;  two  feet  rise  in  the  Salt;  five  feet 
on  the  Grand.  The  New  York  office-engineer 
received  the  messages  with  mild  interest.  The  daily 
reports  from  the  weather  bureau  covering  the  coun 
tries  drained  by  the  Rio  Colorado  lay  on  his  desk 
unnoticed. 

Mr.  Burk  warned  him,  but  the  thoughtful  Man 
ager  of  the  Company  was  not  an  engineer.  Willard 
Holmes  tried  to  help  him,  but  Holmes  had  been  dis 
charged  by  the  Company  and  the  words  of  discharged 
men  have  little  weight  with  those  who  succeed  to  their 
positions. 

The  daily  reports  from  the  gauge  at  Rubio  City 
showed  an  increase  in  the  river's  volume  of  twenty 
thousand  second  feet ;  then  thirty  thousand  more ; 
and  on  top  of  that  came  another  twenty  thousand. 
The  assistants  of  the  new  chief  engineer  tried  to  tell 
him  what  it  meant,  but  the  assistants  were  subordi 
nates  and  friends  of  Willard  Holmes.  The  man  from 
New  York,  who  was  privileged  to  write  several  letters 
after  his  name,  was  supposed  to  know  his  business. 

Then  the  assembled  forces  of  the  river  reached  the 
intake,  and  the  trembling  wooden  structures  that 
stood  between  the  pioneers  and  ruin,  besieged  by  the 
rising  flood,  battered  by  the  swirling  currents,  bom 
barded  by  drift,  gave  way  under  the  strain  and  the 
charging  waters  plunged  through  the  breach. 

Too  late  the  Company's  forces  were  rushed  to  the 
scene.  Before  their  very  eyes  the  roaring  waters,  as 

463 


THE  WINNING  OF  BABBAKA  WOETH 

if  mad  with  destructive  power,  wrenched  and  tore 
at  the  Company's  property,  twisting,  ripping,  smash 
ing,  until  not  a  trestle,  plank  or  stick  was  left  in  place 
and  the  terrific  current,  rushing  with  ever  increasing 
volume  and  power  through  the  opening,  plowed  into 
the  soft,  alluvial  soil  of  the  embankment,  undermin 
ing  and  carrying  it  away  until  nearly  the  entire  river 
was  admitted. 

As  quickly  as  men  and  material  could  be  assem 
bled,  the  Company's  chief  engineer  began  the  battle 
to  regain  control  of  the  mighty  stream.  The  warfare 
thus  begun  meant  life  or  death  to  the  greatest  recla 
mation  project  in  the  world. 

Millions  already  invested  by  the  settlers  in  farms 
and  towns  and  homes  and  business  enterprises  were 
at  stake.  Many  more  millions  that  were  yet  to  be 
realized  from  the  reclaimed  lands  depended  upon  the 
issue  of  the  fight. 

Against  the  efforts  of  the  engineers  and  the  army 
of  laborers  the  river  massed  from  its  tributaries  in 
the  regions  of  heavy  rains  and  melting  snows  the 
greatest  strength  it  had  assembled  in  many  years. 

Five  times,  with  piling  and  trestles  and  jetties  and 
embankments,  the  men  who  defended  The  King's 
Basin  were  in  sight  of  victory.  Five  times  the  river 
summoned  fresh  strength — twisted  out  the  piling, 
wrecked  the  trestles,  undermined  the  jetties  and 
embankments  and  swept  the  nearly  completed  struc 
tures,  smashing,  grinding,  crashing,  away — a  twisted, 
tangled  ruin. 

While  the  engineers  and  men  of  the  Company  were 
waging  this  war  with  the  river,  the  situation  of  the 

464 


THE  WDOEQra  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

pioneers  in  the  Basin  grew  daily  more  perilous. 
Without  a  well-defined  channel  large  enough  to  carry 
the  incoming  stream,  the  flood  spread  over  a  wide 
territory  in  the  southern  and  western  portions  of  the 
Basin,  filling  first  the  old  channels  and  washes  left 
by  the  waters  ages  ago,  forming  next  in  the  areas  of 
nearly  level  or  slightly  depressed  sections  shallow 
pools,  lakes  and  seas,  out  of  which  the  higher  ground 
and  hummocks  rose  like  new-born  islands,  growing 
smaller  and  smaller  as  the  rising  tide  submerged  more 
and  more  of  their  sandy  bases.  Meanwhile  the  whole 
flood,  eddying  slowly  with  winding  sluggish  currents 
in  the  shallow  places,  moving  more  swiftly  in  the 
deeper  washes  and  channels,  swept  always  onward 
toward  the  north  where,  miles  away,  lay  the  deepest 
bottom  of  the  great  Basin. 

Many  of  the  settlers  in  the  flooded  districts  were 
forced  to  abandon  farms  they  had  won  with  courage 
and  toil,  for  the  sweeping  waters  covered  alike  fields 
of  alfalfa  and  grain  and  barren  desert  waste.  The 
towns  of  Frontera  and  Kingston  were  protected  from 
the  inundation  by  earthen  levees,  in  the  building  of 
which  men  and  women  toiled  in  desperate  haste,  and 
night  and  day  these  embankments  were  patrolled  by 
watchful  guards,  who  frequently  summoned  the 
weary,  besieged  citizens  from  their  rest  to  protect  or 
strengthen  some  threatened  point  in  their  fortifica 
tions. 

The  eastern  side  of  the  Basin  being  higher  ground, 
the  settlers  in  the  South  Central  District  and  east  of 
Republic,  with  the  two  towns  built  by  Jefferson 
Worth,  were  in  no  immediate  danger,  but  the  old  Dry 

4G5 


THE  WIPING  OF  BARBARA  WOETH 

River  channel  became  a  roaring  torrent,  bank-full; 
and  it  was  only  a  question  of  time,  if  the  river  were 
not  controlled,  when  every  foot  of  the  new  country 
with  its  wealth  of  improvements  and  its  vast  possi 
bilities  would  be  buried  deep  beneath  the  surface  of 
an  inland  sea. 

The  situation  was  appalling.  The  remarkable 
development  of  the  new  country,  the  marvelous  rich 
ness  of  the  reclaimed  lands,  with  the  immense  possi 
bilities  of  the  reclamation  work  as  demonstrated  by 
The  King's  Basin  project  had  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  nation.  The  pioneers  in  Barbara's  Desert 
were,  in  fact,  leaders  in  a  far  greater  work  that  would 
add  immeasurably  to  the  nation's  life — that  would, 
indeed,  be  world-wide  in  its  influence.  Because  of 
this  the  attention  of  the  nation  was  fixed  with 
peculiar  interest  upon  the  disaster  that  had  fallen 
upon  The  King's  Basin.  Throughout  the  land  civil 
engineers  watched  intently  the  efforts  of  the  Com 
pany  men  to  regain  control  of  the  river  and  to  force 
it  back  into  its  old  channel.  Many  declared  that, 
because  of  the  alluvial  character  of  the  soil,  the 
absence  of  anything  like  a  rock  floor  to  build  upon 
and  the  great  volume  and  terrific  velocity  of  the  cur 
rent,  the  feat  was  an  engineering  impossibility.  In 
the  eyes  of  the  engineering  world  The  King's  Basin 
project  was  doomed.  The  settlers  were  advised  to 
abandon  the  work  they  had  accomplished  and  to  move 
out.  But  those  strong  ones  who  had  forced  the  desert 
to  yield  its  wealth  to  their  hands  did  not  move.  Those 
whose  farms  were  in  the  flooded  district  were  forced 
to  go.  There  was  the  inevitable  sifting  of  the  timid- 

466 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

hearted  and  the  weak,  but  the  great  majority  stood 
fast, 

Jefferson  Worth,  in  the  face  of  almost  certain  ruin, 
went  steadily  on  with  his  work  on  the  railroad  and 
continued  pushing  his  other  enterprises  toward  com 
pletion — making  improvements,  erecting  new  build 
ings,  planning  further  investments  and  developments 
with  a  confidence  and  conviction  that  was  startling. 
Not  once  throughout  that  trying  period  was  he  heard 
to  express  the  slightest  doubt  as  to  the  ultimate 
triumph  of  the  settlers.  His  business  friends  and 
associates  outside  urged  him  to  stop — to  wait  at  least 
until  the  issue  was  certain.  He  answered  calmly 
that  the  issue  was  already  certain  and  went  on  with 
his  work. 

His  confidence  and  courage  were  the  inspiration 
that  fired  the  hearts  of  that  threatened  people.  Had 
he  given  ground,  had  he  weakened  and  drawn  back 
it  would  have  started  a  panic  that  nothing  could 
have  checked  and  that  would  have  resulted  inevitably 
in  the  abandonment  of  the  cause  forever.  The  King's 
Basin  lands  with  the  wealth  of  effort  that  had  already 
been  expended  would  have  been  given  over  to  the 
river,  lost  irretrievably  to  the  race. 

Hundreds  went  to  him  when  they  felt  their  cour 
age  failing  and  their  spirits  weakening  under  the 
strain.  And  always  they  returned  to  their  farms  or 
to  their  business  with  renewed  strength  to  go  on. 
As  one,  who  passed  through  that  ordeal,  long  after 
wards  expressed  it :  "In  those  times  we  all  just  lived 
on  his  nerve." 

Through  all  the  Company's  war  with  the  river  and 

467 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOETH 

its  repeated  defeats  Willard  Holmes  was  forced  to 
stand  a  mere  observer,  an  idle  looker-on.  Foreseeing 
the  catastrophe  that  was  now  upon  them,  he  had 
prepared  himself  by  careful  study  of  every  factor  in 
the  problem  and  by  thorough  knowledge  of  the  situa 
tion  to  meet  the  crisis  when  it  came.  With  every 
means  at  his  command  he  had  planned  and  worked! 
that  he  might  be  ready  and  so  far  as  possible 
equipped  for  the  struggle  and  now,  when  war  was 
declared  and  the  battle  being  waged,  he  could  only 
watch  the  ruin  of  the  work  he  loved  while  a  stranger, 
who  ignored  his  preparatory  efforts,  took  the  place 
that  should  have  been  his. 

But  the  great  man  of  the  S.  &  C.,  with  whom  the 
engineer  had  many  a  counsel  in  those  days,  warned 
him  always  to  be  ready  for  the  time  when — as  the 
western  man  put  it — "The  Company  should  throw  up 
its  hands." 

The  waters  moving  northward  reached  the  lowest 
point  in  the  Basin  and  there  formed  an  inland  sea 
that,  without  an  outlet  and  receiving  the  full  volume 
of  the  river,  grew  ever  larger  and  larger.  Flowing 
towards  the  sea  the  flood  developed  swift  currents  in 
the  depressions  and  washes  that  led  in  the  general 
direction  of  its  course,  seeking  thus  to  make  for  itself 
a  well-defined  channel.  The  largest  of  these  ancient 
washes,  scarcely  noticeable  in  the  desert,  led  from  the 
south  to  Kingston,  passing  through  the  edge  of  the 
town,  curved  slightly  to  the  west  and  extended  on 
northward,  becoming  deeper  and  more  clearly  defined 
with  higher  ground  on  either  side  as  it  neared  the 
lowest  point  of  the  Basin.  The  general  lay  of  the 

468 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

land  drew  the  flood  toward  this  channel  and  devel 
oped  a  current  that  moved  with  increasing  velocity 
as  the  waters,  Hearing  the  sea,  were  concentrated 
more  and  more  by  the  greater  depth  of  the  old  chan 
nel  and  the  steeper  grade  of  the  land  on  both  sides. 

Then  a  new  and  alarming  phase  of  the  river's 
destructive  work  developed  and  everyone  saw  that  the 
war  at  the  intake  must  be  forced  to  a  speedy  finish 
or  the  cause  would  be  lost.  The  immense  volume  of 
water,  flowing  with  increased  strength  and  velocity 
as  it  defined  for  itself  a  more  distinct  channel  down 
the  steeper  grade  of  the  Basin,  began  cutting  in  the 
soft  soil  a  vertical  fall  that  from  the  foot  of  the  grade 
moved  swiftly  up-stream;  a  mighty  cataract  from 
fifty  to  sixty  feet  in  height  and  a  full  quarter  of  a 
mile  wide,  moving  at  the  rate  of  from  one  to  three 
miles  a  day  and  leaving  as  it  went  a  great  gorge 
'through  which  a  new-made  river  flowed  quietly  to  a 
new-born  and  ever-growing  sea.  The  roar  of  the 
plunging  waters,  the  crashing  and  booming  of  the 
falling  masses  of  earth  that  were  undermined  by  the 
roaring  torrent  were  heard  miles  away.  Acres  upon 
acres  of  the  soft  fertile  land  fell,  melted  and  were 
swept  away  down  the  gorge  as  banks  of  snow  fall  and 
melt  in  the  spring  freshets.  Day  and  night,  night 
and  day,  the  immeasurable  power  of  the  canyon- 
cutting  river  drove  the  cataract  southward  toward 
the  break  at  the  intake  through  which,  by  this  time, 
the  entire  Colorado  at  its  highest  flood  stage  was 
turned. 

The  imminent  danger  that  threatened  the  Basin 
was  not  the  danger  from  the  ever-rising  sea.  Long 

469 


THE  WIPING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

before  the  waters  could  fill  the  old  sea-bed,  that 
mighty  cataract,  moving  ever  upstream,  would  pass 
the  intake;  and  with  the  floor  of  the  river  lowered 
thus  some  fifty  feet  it  would  be  impossible  to  take 
the  water  out  for  irrigation.  The  lands  reclaimed  by 
the  pioneers  would  go  back  to  desert  years  before  they 
would  be  buried  once  more  under  the  surface  of 
the  sea. 

The  complete  destruction  of  all  that  the  settlers 
had  gained  and  the  utter  desolation  of  the  land  was 
now  a  question  of  weeks. 

The  Company  town  of  Kingston  was  directly  in 
the  path  of  that  moving  Niagara.  While  the  Com 
pany's  men  were  making  a  last  desperate  effort  to 
close  the  break,  the  great  falls  were  eating  their  way 
nearer  and  nearer  the  little  city.  When  the  roar  of 
the  water  and  the  crashing  and  booming  of  the  falling 
banks  could  be  heard  on  the  streets  and  in  the  offices 
of  the  Company,  the  people  left  their  homes,  their 
stores  and  their  shops;  the  town  realizing  that  no 
human  power  now  could  avert  the  disaster. 

Heroic  efforts  were  made  to  direct  the  course  of 
the  new  river  away  from  the  little  city,  but  the  waters 
with  savage,  resistless  power  chose  their  own  way. 
The  pioneers,  who  built  the  first  town  in  the  heart 
of  The  King's  Basin  Desert,  saw  that  mighty,  thun 
dering  cataract  move  upon  the  work  of  their  hands 
and  felt  the  earth  trembling  under  their  feet  as  they 
watched  homes,  business  blocks,  the  hotel,  the  opera 
house,  the  bank  and  finally  the  Company  building 
undermined  and  tumbled,  crashing  into  the  deep 
canyon. 

470 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

In  a  few  short  hours  it  was  over.  The  falls  moved 
on  and  where  Kingston  had  once  stood  was  that  great 
gorge,  with  a  few  scattered  houses  only  remaining  on 
each  side. 

That  same  day  the  last  attempt  of  the  Company 
men  to  close  the  break  failed. 

With  every  hour  the  awful  ruin  drew  nearer  the 
point  which,  if  reached,  would  place  The  King's 
Basin  forever  beyond  the  reclaiming  power  of  men. 
Frantic  appeals  for  help  were  made  to  the  govern 
ment,  but  before  the  ponderous  machinery  of  state, 
with  its  intricate  and  complicated  wheels  within 
wheels,  could  unwind  a  sufficient  quantity  of  red  tape 
the  work  of  the  pioneer  citizens  would  be  past  saving. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  a  telegram  from  Jefferson 
Worth  to  the  great  man  of  the  Southwestern  and 
Continental  brought  a  special  train  of  private  cars 
into  the  Basin.  At  Deep  Well  Junction  Jefferson 
Worth,  Abe  Lee,  the  Seer  and  Willard  Holmes 
boarded  the  train  and  entered  the  car  of  the  general 
manager,  where  the  officials  representing  the  highest 
authority  in  the  great  trans-continental  system  had 
gathered  to  meet  them  in  consultation. 

At  Eepublic  the  president  of  The  King's  Basin 
Land  and  Irrigation  Company  with  his  manager  and 
chief  engineer  joined  them,  and  the  train  moved  on 
until,  at  a  word  from  Holmes,  the  conductor  gave 
the  signal  to  stop.  From  the  windows  and  platform 
of  the  car  the  party  could  see  the  water  extending  to 
the  south  and  west  mile  after  mile,  and  nearer  the 
huge  plunging  cataracts  with  leaping  columns  of 
spray,  while  the  roar  of  the  falls,  the  crashing  and 

471 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

booming  of  the  caving  banks  shook  the  air  with  heavy 
vibrations  and  the  earth  trembled  with  the  shock  of 
the  plunging  waters  and  the  falling  masses  of  earth. 
Just  ahead,  where  Kingston  had  stood,  the  track 
ended  on  the  bank  of  the  deep  gorge.  From  here  the 
party  was  driven  in  comfortable  spring  wagons  to  the 
scene  of  the  Company's  defeat. 

Save  for  the  camps  of  the  laborers,  the  boats,  pile- 
drivers,  implements  and  materials  of  their  warfare 
and  the  debris  of  their  wrecked  structures,  not  a  sign 
of  their  work  remained,  while  through  the  breach — 
widened  now  to  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile — the  great 
river  poured  its  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  second 
feet  of  muddy  water  with  terrific  velocity  and  solemn, 
awful  power. 

When  the  party  had  viewed  the  situation,  the  rail 
road  men  with  Mr.  Greenfield  retired  to  the  tent  of 
the  Company's  chief  engineer. 

A  little  apart  from  Jefferson  Worth  and  his  two 
companions,  Willard  Holmes  stood  alone  on  the  brink 
of  the  broken  embankment  looking  down  into  the 
swirling  muddy  waters.  He  knew  that  his  time  had 
come.  He  knew  that  at  that  moment  the  railroad 
officials  were  concluding  a  deal  with  The  King's 
Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  through  its 
president,  by  which  the  S.  &  C.  would  assume  control 
of  the  situation  and  attempt  to  save  the  reclamation 
work.  His  chief  had  told  him  to  be  ready.  He  was 
ready. 

In  the  railroad  yards  at  Rubio  City  and  on  every 
available  side-track  for  several  miles  east  and  west 
were  standing  train-loads  of  ties  and  rails.  In  the 

472 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

yards  at  the  Coast  city  were  cars  loaded  with 
machinery,  implements  and  supplies.  In  the  yards 
at  the  harbor  were  other  train-loads  of  timber  and 
piling.  With  the  readiness  of  a  perfectly  equipped 
and  organized  army  the  forces  of  the  S.  &  C.,  backed 
by  the  resources  of  that  powerful  system,  waited  the 
word,  while  every  moment  the  disaster  that  threat 
ened  the  pioneers  drew  nearer.  From  the  roaring 
river  at  his  feet  Willard  Holmes  turned  to  look 
toward  the  tent.  Why  were  they  so  slow  ? 

Then  his  face  lighted  up  and  he  took  an  eager  step 
forward  as  the  private  secretary  of  the  general  man 
ager  came  out  of  the  tent  and  hurried  toward  him. 

"They  want  you,  Mr.  Holmes,"  said  the  young 
man.  The  engineer  went  quickly  to  answer  the  call. 

When  he  entered  the  tent  every  man  in  the  party 
turned  toward  the  engineer.  "Holmes,"  said  his  chief, 
"we  will  attempt  to  close  the  break.  You  will  take 
charge  at  once." 

Within  an  hour  the  forces  of  The  King's  Basin 
Land  and  Irrigation  Company  already  on  the  ground 
were  set  to  work  under  the  Seer  preparing  the  grade 
for  a  spur-track  that  would  leave  the  main  line  near 
the  river  fifteen  miles  north  of  the  break,  and 
Holmes,  with  Abe  Lee,  set  out  on  horseback  for  Rubio 
City. 

With  the  return  of  the  general  manager  and  his 
party  to  their  train,  the  movement  already  planned 
began.  Without  hurry  but  with  ready  promptness 
the  orders,  voiced  by  the  hundreds  of  clicking  tele 
graph  instruments  covering  the  district  affected  by 
the  operations,  were  obeyed.  Special  trains  carried 

473 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

Jefferson  Worth's  force  of  railroad  builders  with 
teams  and  equipment  to  the  point  at  which  the  spur- 
track  would  connect  with  the  main  line  where,  under 
Abe  Lee,  they  began  pushing  the  grade  southward  to 
meet  the  forces  that,  under  the  Seer,  were  working 
northward  from  the  front. 

Throughout  the  Basin  the  call  for  men  and  teams 
was  issued  by  Jefferson  Worth,  and  the  pioneers, 
answering  as  the  Minute  Men  of  old,  were  hurried 
to  the  scene  where  they  found  trainloads  of  equip 
ment  waiting  ready  for  their  use,  while  every  hour 
brought  reinforcements — laborers  of  many  national 
ities  gathered  in  the  cities  of  the  coast  by  the  agents 
of  the  railroad  company. 

The  waiting  trains  loaded  with  ties  and  steel  began 
to  move  and  the  construction  gangs  followed  close  on 
the  heels  of  the  graders.  And  when  the  last  spike  in 
the  track  to  the  scene  of  the  decisive  battle  was 
driven,  the  track-men  with  their  sledges  stepped  aside 
to  clear  the  way  for  the  panting  engines  that  drew 
#he  first  train  loaded  with  piling  and  timbers  for  the 
trestle. 

Hour  by  hour  now,  without  pause  or  halt,  the  men 
under  Willard  Holmes  working  in  shifts  met  the  Rio 
Colorado  in  a  hand-to-hand  fight  for  The  King's 
Basin  lands.  By  day  under  the  white,  semi-tropical 
sun,  by  night  in  the  light  of  locomotive  headlights 
that  gleamed  strangely  over  the  dark  swirling  floods, 
the  trestles  were  forced  further  and  further  out  into 
the  plunging  current  that  wrenched  and  twisted  and 
tugged  with  terrific  strength  in  a  mad  wrestle  with 
those  who  dared  attempt  to  check  its  sullen  destruct- 

474 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

ivo  will,  while  steadily,  irresistibly,  the  canyon-cut 
ting  falls  drew  nearer  and  nearer.  It  was  not  alone 
the  magnitude  of  the  task  directed  by  Willard 
Holmes  that  made  the  work  heroic.  It  was  that  this 
seemingly  impossible  work  must  be  accomplished 
against  time.  In  his  fight  with  the  river  the  engineer 
raced  against  a  destructive  force  which,  if  it  reached 
the  scene  of  the  struggle  before  the  battle  was  won, 
would  make  final  defeat  certain  and  place  the  Colo 
rado,  so  far  as  The  King's  Basin  reclamation  was 
concerned,  beyond  control  of  men. 

As  the  engineer  stood  on  the  trestle  above  the  mad, 
whirling  currents,  directing  his  men  in  their  efforts 
to  drive  the  piling  in  thirty  feet  of  water  that — as 
one  veteran  expressed  it — "ran  like  the  mill  tails  of 
hell,"  he  fancied  he  could  hear  above  the  roar  of  the 
river  against  the  structure,  the  blows  of  the  heavy 
driver,  the  rattle  of  cable  and  chain  and  windlass,  the 
grinding  and  squeaking  of  the  straining  timbers  and 
the  shouts  of  the  men — the  menacing  thunder  of  that 
moving  cataract  a  few  miles  away.  While  he  paced 
the  embankments,  studying  the  set  of  the  currents, 
observing  the  form  and  action  of  the  eddies  or  receiv 
ing  the  hourly  reports  from  the  river  gauge  at  Rubio 
City,  and  held  consultation  with  his  assistants,  he 
often  turned  his  head  involuntarily  to  look  anxiously 
away  in  the  direction  of  the  racing  falls. 

Only  when  his  exhausted  body  and  wearied  brain 
refused  to  respond  longer  to  his  will  would  he  throw 
himself  fully  dressed  upon  a  cot  in  his  tent  for  an 
hour's  sleep.  His  face  grew  haggard  and  deeply 
lined  with  anxious  care,  his  hollow  eyes — dark- 

475 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

rimmed — were  bloodshot  and  burning  as  if  with 
fever,  his  jaws  were  set  as  if  by  sheer  power  of  his 
will  he  would  beat  the  river  into  submission.  And 
he  barked  his  orders  shortly  in  a  hoarse  strained  voice 
that  told  of  nerves  stretched  almost  to  the  breaking 
point.  In  critical  moments,  when  it  looked  as  though 
the  river  in  the  next  instant  would  reduce  their  work 
to  a  hopeless  wreck,  the  engineer,  standing  on  the 
trembling  timbers  or  clinging  to  the  swaying  pile- 
driver  itself,  seemed  to  those  who  did  his  bidding  to 
become  the  very  incarnation  of  human  courage  and 
power. 

The  Seer  and  Abe  Lee,  remembering  the  man  who 
had  come  out  from  the  East  to  go  with  them  on  that 
preliminary  survey,  wondered  at  the  transformation. 
Then  Willard  Holmes  was  the  servant  of  Capital  that 
used  people  for  its  own  gain.  He  saw  his  work  then 
only  as  a  means  to  the  end  that  his  Company  might 
make  money.  Now,  though  employed  still  by  a  cor 
poration,  he  was  a  master  who  used  the  power  at  his 
command  in  behalf  of  the  people.  He  had  come  to 
look  upon  his  work  as  a  service  to  the  world  and 
through  that  service  only  he  served  his  employers. 
It  was  as  if  in  this  man,  born  of  the  best  blood  of  a 
nation-building  people,  trained  by  the  best  of  the 
cultured  East — trained  as  truly  by  his  life  and  work 
in  the  desert — it  was  as  though,  in  him,  the  best 
spirit  of  the  age  and  race  found  expression. 

At  last  the  trestles  were  pushed  across  the  break, 
the  track  was  laid  and  the  gigantic  work  of  filling 
the  channel  was  begun.  In  every  rock  quarry  reached 
by  the  S.  &  C.  within  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of 

476 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

the  battle,  men  were  drilling  and  blasting  and  with 
steam  shovels  and  derricks  were  loading  cars  with 
material  for  the  fill.  At  the  word  from  Willard 
Holmes  these  rock  trains  steamed  swiftly  to  the  front, 
everything  giving  them  the  right  of  way.  Merchants 
and  manufacturers  east  and  west  cursed  the  railroad 
because  their  shipments  were  delayed.  Passengers, 
held  for  hours  on  the  sidings,  complained,  scolded, 
protested  and  threatened.  It  was  an  outrage! 
declared  the  tourists  in  their  luxurious  Pullmans  that 
they  should  be  forced  to  give  up  an  hour  of  their 
pleasure  in  order  that  a  train  load  of  rock  might 
make  better  time.  But,  unheeding,  the  great  battle 
ships,  each  with  its  fifty  cubic  yards  of  stone,  and  the 
flats  and  gondolas,  each  with  its  tons  of  material, 
thundered  away  to  the  scene  of  the  struggle.  Every 
five  minutes,  night  and  day,  from  the  moment  of  the 
completion  of  the  trestles  until  the  fill  was  above  the 
danger  point  a  car  of  rock  was  dumped  into  the 
break. 

So  the  task  was  accomplished;  the  fight  was  won. 
The  Rio  Colorado  was  checked  in  its  work  of  destruc 
tion  and  beaten  back  into  its  old  channel.  The  thou 
sands  of  acres  of  The  King's  Basin  lands  that  would 
have  been  forever  lost  to  the  race  through  one  cor 
poration  were  saved  by  another ;  and  the  man,  who — 
without  protest — had  built  for  his  employers'  gain 
the  inadequate  structures  that  endangered  the  work 
of  the  pioneers,  led  the  forces  that  won  the  victory. 

The  afternoon  of  the  day  on  which  the  break  was 
finally  closed  three  private  cars  came  in  with  the  rock 
trains.  The  passengers  were  the  general  manager 

477 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

and  the  general  superintendent  with  their  wives, 
Jefferson  Worth  and  a  small  party  of  friends. 

Leaving  their  cars  the  party  walked  toward  a  point 
below  the  rock  embankment  where  they  could  look 
down  into  the  now  empty  gorge.  With  this  visible 
evidence  of  the  river's  power  before  them,  the  visitors 
exclaimed  with  wonder. 

When  the  superintendent  had  explained  the  magni 
tude  of  the  work,  the  difficulties  encountered  and  how 
the  task  had  been  accomplished,  the  general  manager, 
who — here  and  there — had  added  a  word,  said: 
"After  all,  friends,  taking  into  consideration  money, 
equipment  and  everything,  the  whole  question  of  a 
work  like  this,  or  of  any  great  enterprise,  resolves 
itself  into  a  question  of  men.  It's  up  to  the  man  on 
the  job.  We  have  the  system,  the  machinery  without 
which  this  work  could  not  have  been  done.  We  have 
the  capital  to  supply  material  and  labor — but  that 
man  up  there  closed  the  break." 

As  he  spoke  he  pointed  to  a  figure  standing  on  the 
upper  trestle  above  the  fill — outlined  against  the  sky. 

Then  the  party  climbed  the  grade  to  the  tracks 
again  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the  upper  trestle. 
Turning,  the  engineer  saw  and  came  towards  them. 
Silently  they  stood  to  receive  him.  From  boots  to 
Stetson  his  khaki  trousers  and  rough  shirt  were 
stained  with  mud  and  grime,  his  eyes  were  sunken  in 
dark  hollows,  his  worn  face  was  unshaven  and  his 
hair,  when  he  removed  his  hat,  was  unkempt.  He 
did  not  look  like  a  hero;  he  looked  more  like  some 
ruffian  just  from  a  prolonged  debauch.  But  the  little 
party  burst  into  applause. 

478 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

The  engineer  smiled  as  his  chief  went  forward 
from  the  group  to  grasp  him  by  the  hand.  For  a 
moment  they  talked  of  the  work.  Then  the  official, 
placing  his  hand  on  the  engineer's  arm,  said :  "Come, 
Holmes,  we  have  some  women  here  who  want  to  meet 
the  man  who  mastered  the  Colorado." 

The  engineer  protested.  He  was  "not  presentable." 

"Presentable !  You're  the  most  presentable  man  I 
know  of  this  minute.  Come  along,  there's  my  wife 
making  signs  to  me  to  hurry  right  now." 

There  was  nothing  for  Holmes  to  do  but  to  go. 
A  moment  later  he  was  face  to  face  with  the  rest  of 
the  party  and — with  Barbara  Worth. 


479 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 
NATURE  AND  HUMAN  NATURE. 

|  WO  weeks  after  the  victory  of  Willard 
Holmes  in  the  River  war  the  engineer 
arrived  in  Republic  on  the  evening  train 
from  the  city  by  the  sea. 

At  the  hotel  he  was  quickly  surrounded  by  the 
pioneer  citizens,  who  were  eager  to  greet  him  with 
expressions  of  appreciation  for  his  work.  But  it  was 
Horace  P.  Blanton  who  did  the  talking. 

Horace  P.,  in  his  brave  picture-general  hat,  his 
impressively  swelling  front  of  white  vest  and  his 
black  clerical  tie,  was  the  personification  of  economic, 
financial  and  scholastic — not  to  say  ecclesiastic,  dig 
nity.  His  greeting  of  the  engineer  was  majestic. 
But,  as  a  royal  sovereign  might  welcome  the  return 
ing  general  of  his  conquering  armies  with  sadness  at 
the  thought  of  the  lives  his  victories  had  cost,  the 
countenance  of  Horace  P.  expressed  a  noble  grief. 

"Willard,"  he  said,  his  voice  charged  with  emo 
tion,  "I  congratulate  you.  You  are  the  savior  of  this 
imperial  King's  Basin.  When  we  saw  that  Green 
field's  Company  was  not  able  to  handle  the  awful 
situation,  I  told  my  friend  the  general  manager  and 
our  other  officials  of  the  S.  &  C.  that  they  must  come 
to  the  rescue  without  an  instant's  delay  and  that  you 
must  be  put  in  charge  of  the  work.  I  knew  that  if 
any  man  on  earth  could  stop  that  river,  you  could. 

480 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

So  we  decided  to  let  you  go  ahead.  You  have  justi 
fied  my  confidence  nobly,  Willard;  you  certainly 
have.  I'm  proud  of  you,  old  man ;  I  am  indeed." 

The  engineer  tried  manfully  to  appreciate  the 
spirit  of  the  speaker's  words.  With  that  white  vest 
and  black  tie  before  him,  to  say  nothing  of  the  picture 
hat  that  crowned  the  massive  head,  it  was  impossible 
for  Holmes  not  to  wish  that  he  could  appreciate 
Horace  P.  Blanton's  spirit — it  hungered  so  for 
appreciation*. 

"I  am  very  grateful  to  you,  Mr.  Blanton,"  said  the 
engineer.  "But  really  I  feel  that  you  over-estimate 
my  part  in  the  work.  I — " 

"Not  at  all ;  not  at  all,  my  dear  boy.  I  knew  my 
man  and  I  was  not  disappointed.  But  the  cost — " 
he  shook  his  kingly  head  sorrowfully  and  heaved  a 
majestic  sigh.  "Confidentially,  Willard,  I  estimate 
that  the  financial  losses  of  Greenfield  and  myself 
alone  are  close  on  to  a  million.  I  haven't  a  thing  left. 
Wiped  me  out  clean." 

Holmes  looked  really  sympathetic.  He  knew  that 
every  dollar  that  Horace  P.  Blanton  ever  spent  was 
a  dollar  belonging  to  someone  else,  but  even  mythical 
losses  of  mythical  property,  when  suffered  by  Horace 
P.,  demanded  sympathy.  The  man  in  the  white  vest 
felt  them  so  keenly  and  strove  with  such  noble  cour 
age  to  bear  them  bravely. 

Encouraged  by  the  engineer's  interest  and  the 
presence  of  the  little  crowd  of  pioneers,  the  speaker 
continued:  "When  I  saw  our  beautiful  town — the 
town  that  we  had  built  with  our  own  hands — falling 
in  ruins  into  that  terrible  chasm,  I  cried  like  a  baby, 

481 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WOKTH 

sir."  Even  as  he  spoke  his  eyes  filled  with  manly 
tears  which  he  made  no  attempt  to  hide.  Then  he 
lifted  his  majestic  bulk  grandly  and  looked  about 
with  kingly  countenance.  "But  I  shall  stay  with  it, 
Willard.  I  shall  stay  and  help  these  people  to  regain 
their  losses.  We  cant  desert  them  now.  If  my  cred 
itors  will  give  me  a  little  time,  and  I  am  sure  they 
will,  not  a  man  shall  lose  a  penny,  no  matter  what  it 
costs  me." 

The  sentence  was  a  bit  ambiguous  but  it  was  a 
noble  resolution,  worthy  of  such  a  lofty  soul. 

At  this  moment  a  boy  with  the  evening  papers 
approached  the  group.  "Here  son,  my  paper,"  called 
Horace  P. 

The  boy  gripped  his  wares  with  a  firm  hand.  "I 
got  to  have  my  money  first.  You  ain't  done  nothin' 
but  promise  for  a  month." 

"Boy!  Give  me  my  paper.  You  shall  have  your 
money  to-morrow,"  he  thundered  from  the  depths 
beneath  the  white  vest. 

The  boy  backed  away.  "I  dassn't  do  it.  I  can't 
live  on  hot  air." 

With  an  imperial  air,  as  if  tremendous  stakes  hung 
upon  the  trivial  incident,  the  great  man  said  to 
Holmes:  "Excuse  me,  Willard;  I  must  see  about 
this,"  and  with  a  firm  and  determined  step  he  left 
the  hotel. 

A  hush  fell  upon  the  company  of  pioneers.  Not 
one  of  them  but  would  have  gladly — had  he  dared — 
offered  the  outraged  monarch  the  price  of  a  paper. 
The  King's  Basin  settlers  were  proud  of  Horace  P. 

But  that  night  Horace  P.  Blanton  boarded  the 

482 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WORTH 

north-bound  train  and  was  never  seen  in  The  King's 
Basin  again.  His  creditors — and  they  are  many, 
from  the  newsboy  to  the  hotel  manager,  the  barber, 
the  laundry  agent,  the  liveryman  and  boot-black — 
are  still  "giving  him  time,"  as  he  was  confident  that 
they  would.  The  pioneers  miss  him  sorely,  but  they 
manage  to  struggle  along  without  him,  living  perhaps 
in  the  hope  that  he  will  some  day  come  back. 

In  the  silence  that  followed  the  passing  of  Horace 
P.,  Willard  Holmes  slipped  away  from  the  group  of 
men  and  approached  the  Manager  of  The  King's 
Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company,  who  was  sit 
ting  alone  with  his  cigar  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room. 

"Hello,  old  man,"  was  Burk's  greeting  as  the 
engineer  approached.  The  thoughtful  Manager  of 
the  Company  had  been  an  interested  observer  of  his 
friend's  reception  and  of  the  newspaper  incident.  As 
the  two  men  shook  hands  the  Manager's  cigar  shifted 
to  one  corner  of  his  mouth  and  his  head  tipped 
toward  the  opposite  shoulder.  "How  much  did 
Horace  P.  touch  you  for,  Willard  ?" 

"I  gave  him  my  admiration  and  sympathy." 

The  other  shook  his  head  wonderingly.  "A  special 
providence  watches  over  you,  my  son.  After  that, 
nothing  could  have  saved  your  pocket-book  if  that 
kid  had  not  been  sent  by  your  guardian  angel  to  your 
rescue.  When  did  you  leave  the  river?" 

"Last  week.  The  S.  &  C.  called  me  into  the  city. 
I'm  on  my  way  back  to  the  work  now.  What's  the 
news  ?" 

Burk  grinned.  "The  first  train  over  the  King's 
Basin  Central  went  out  this  morning  with  a  special 

483 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

party  of  distinguished  citizens — Jefferson  Worth,  the 
Seer,  Abe  Lee  and  Miss  Worth.  The  lady  will  spend 
a  week  or  two  in  the  town  of  Barba  and  with  friends 
in  the  South  Central  District.  Texas  Joe  and  Pat 
left  this  morning  in  a  rig,  leading  Miss  Worth's 
saddle  horse,  El  Capitan.  It's  all  in  The  King's 
Basin  Messenger."  He  handed  the  paper  to  Holmes 
who  mechanically  stuffed  it  into  his  pocket. 

"How's  Uncle  Jim?" 

"He  is  at  the  office,  I  think.  You  know  he  is 
winding  up  the  affairs  of  the  poor  old  K.  B.  L. 
and  I." 

"So  I  understand." 

The  two  men  were  silent  for  a  moment,  then  Burk 
said  thoughtfully :  "It's  hard  lines  for  the  Company, 
Willard,  but  the  mules,  including  your  humble  serv 
ant,  don't  seem  to  care  much.  That's  one  advantage 
in  being  a  mule.  I  will  be  glad  to  get  back  to  civiliza 
tion  and  so  will  your  Uncle  Jim  I  fancy.  Take  it 
altogether  I  don't  think  he  has  enjoyed  watching  the 
success  of  Jefferson  Worth's  little  experiments  as 
much  as  we  have.  The  same  beneficent  power  that 
has  knocked  out  the  Company  seems  to  have  taken 
good  care  of  friend  Jeff." 

"You  are  not  going  to  stay  in  the  West?"  asked 
the  engineer. 

"I  go  Monday.  I  understand  there  is  still  a 
demand  for  good  mules  back  home." 

The  president  of  the  wrecked  Company  received 
his  former  chief  engineer  warmly,  and  heartily  con 
gratulated  him  on  the  success  of  his  battle  with  the 
river. 

484 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOETH 

"I  suppose  you  know,  Willard,"  he  said,  "that  The 
King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  has  vir 
tually  passed  into  the  hands  of  the  S.  &  C.  ?  We 
owe  them  a  good  half  million  for  closing  the  break, 
which  means  that  they  will  have  to  take  over  the 
property.  We  knew  when  we  went  into  the  deal  how 
it  would  end,  of  course.  If  you  had  remained  with 
the  Company  the  river  never  would  have  had  a  chance 
to  get  in  at  all." 

The  younger  man  did  not  remind  Mr.  Greenfield" 
of  the  many  times  the  Company  had  been  urged  to 
make  the  improvements  that  would  have  prevented 
the  disaster,  nor  did  he  suggest  that  he  would  have 
remained  with  the  Company  had  not  the  president 
himself  discharged  him.  "Your  engineer  did  all  that 
any  man  could  do  after  the  break  was  made,"  he  said 
warmly.  "It  was  the  equipment  and  organization  of 
the  S.  &  C.  that  put  the  river  back  in  its  channel,  and 
no  other  power  on  earth,  under  the  circumstances, 
could  have  done  it  in  time  to  head  off  that  back-cut." 

The  older  man  smiled.  "We  all  know  who  closed 
the  break,  my  boy.  I  suppose  you  are  planning  to 
stay  with  the  railroad  ?" 

"They  have  offered  me  the  management  of  the 
irrigation  work  here  in  the  Basin.  They  are  going 
to  put  in  permanent  structures  and  reconstruct  the 
whole  system  in  first-class  shape." 

"And  you  accepted  ?"  There  was  a  note  of  anxiety 
in  the  older  man's  voice. 

"Not  yet.    I  asked  for  a  few  days  to  consider.'' 

James  Greenfield  did  not  speak  for  several 
minutes,  then  he  said — hesitating  as  if  searching  for 

485 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

words:  "Don't  do  it,  Willard.  Don't  do  it,  for  my 
sake.  Let's  go  back  home.  You  know  how  I  hate 
this  cursed  country.  I  ought  never  to  have  gone  into 
this  deal  after  what  I  had  already  suffered  in  the 
West.  But  it  looked  as  if  I  could  clean  up  a  good 
thing  and  get  out.  Personally,  my  money  losses  don't 
amount  to  anything.  I  have  enough  left  for  both  of 
us,  and  you  know,  Willard  my  boy,  that  it's  all  yours 
when  I  go.  Come  back  home  with  me  and  leave  this 
damned  hole!  We  don't  fit  in  here;  let's  go  back 
where  we  belong.  I'm  coming  along  now  to  the  time 
when  I  must  begin  to  think  of  getting  out  of  the 
game ;  and  I  need  you,  my  boy,  I  need  you." 

Willard  Holmes  was  strongly  moved  by  the  appeal 
of  this  man  for  whom  he  had  a  son's  affection.  "I 
wish  I  could  say  yes,  Uncle  Jim,"  he  answered.  "I 
owe  you  more  than  I  can  ever  repay,  and  if  it  was 
only  the  work  here  I  would  go.  But — there's  some 
thing  else — something  that  I  cannot  give  up  if  I 
would — that  I  have  no  right  to  give  up." 

"You  mean  that  girl?  I  thought  that  was  all 
settled." 

"So  did  I,"  returned  the  other  grimly.  "When  I 
talked  with  you  about  it  I  thought  there  was  no 
possible  chance  for  me,  and  perhaps  I  was  right.  But 
I  can't  let  it  go  now  without  absolute  certainty." 

"You  don't  mean,  Willard,  that  you  are  going  to 
offer  yourself  to  a  woman  whose  love  you  have  every 
reason  to  think  belongs  to  another  man  ?" 

The  engineer  rose  to  his  feet  and  walked  up  and 
down  the  room.  When  he  spoke  there  was  in  his  voice 
a  suggestion  of  that  which  marked  his  speech  in  the 

486 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

days  of  the  river  fight.  "I  mean  this :  that  no  man 
on  earth  shall  take  this  woman  from  me  if  I  can 
prevent  it.  I  would  deserve  to  lose  her  if  I  gave  her 
up  on  the  mere  guess  that  she  cared  for  another  man. 
I  am  going  to  know  from  her  own  words.  If  there 
is  still  a  chance  for  me  I  am  going  to  stay  and  fight 
for  it.  If  I  have  no  chance" — he  dropped  into  a 
chair — "then  I'll  go  back  with  you,  Uncle  Jim." 

James  Greenfield's  face  flushed  hotly  at  the 
younger  man's  words  and  then,  in  the  silence  that 
followed,  grew  pale  and  stern  while  his  fingers 
gripped  his  pencil  nervorsly.  "Very  well,  Willard," 
he  said  at  last.  "Yor.  are  a  man  and  your  own 
master.  If  your  love  for  me  cannot  influence  you — " 

"Uncle  Jim!"  The  engineer's  cry  was  a  protest 
and  an  appeal,  but  the  other  continued  as  though  he 
had  not  heard :  "I  can  urge  no  other  consideration. 
But  you  must  understand  this.  I  will  never  receive 
this  nameless  woman  of  unknown  parentage  as  your 
wife.  If  you  prefer  her  with  that  illiterate,  low, 
cunning  trickster  whom  she  calls  father,  you  need 
never  expect  to  come  back  to  me.  I  have  been  true 
to  your  mother  in  my  care  for  you.  I  have  done  all 
in  my  power  to  give  you  the  place  in  life  that  you  are 
entitled  to  fill  by  your  birth  and  family.  You  have 
been  my  son  in  everything  but  blood.  But,  by  God, 
sir !  if  you,  with  your  breeding  and  raising — if  you 
can  turn  your  back  upon  the  memory  of  your  mother 
and  father  and  upon  me  and  all  that  we  stand  for — 
if  you  can  turn  your  back  upon  us,  desert  us  for  these 
— these  damned  cattle,  you  can  herd  with  them  the 
rest  of  your  life." 

487 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAEA  WORTH 

He  was  on  his  feet  now,  pacing  the  floor  angrily. 
The  engineer  had  also  risen  and  stood  waiting  for 
this  storm  of  wrath  to  spend  itself. 

"Understand  me,"  the  older  man  continued.  "If 
she  refuses  you,  you  can  come  back.  If  she  accepts 
you,  you  need  never  show  your  face  to  me  again,  and 
I  shall  take  good  care  that  your  friends  at  home 
understand  the  reason.  Probably  if  you  let  these 
people  know  what  the  result  will  be  if  you  are 
accepted  it  will  make  a  great  difference  in  the 
woman's  answer." 

Willard  Holmes  dared  not  speak.  Nothing  but  his 
life-long  love  for  the  man  v/n :  se  devotion  to  the  engi 
neer's  mother  had  stood  the  test  of  years  enabled  the 
younger  man  to  control  himself.  When  he  could 
speak  calmly  he  said:  "I  am  sorry,  sir,  that  you 
said  that;  for  you  must  see  how  you  have  made  it 
impossible  for  me  now  ever  to  go  back  with  you.  If 
Miss  Worth  does  not  care  for  me,  I  would  have  been 
glad  to  go  home  with  you,  for  next  to  her,  Uncle 
Jim,  you  are  more  to  me  than  anyone  in  the  world. 
When  you  say  that  my  relation  to  you  shall  depend 
upon  her  answer  you  make  it  impossible  for  her 
answer  to  make  any  difference  so  far  as  you  and  I 
are  concerned.  Won't  you — won't  you  reconsider, 
Uncle  Jim  ?  Won't  you  take  back  your  words  ?" 

"No,  sir ;  I  have  said  exactly  what  I  mean." 

"Good-by,  sir." 

"Good-by." 

When  the  office  door  had  closed  behind  the  engi 
neer,  James  Greenfield  stood  motionless  in  the  center 
of  the  room.  Once  he  took  a  step  toward  the  door 

488 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

but  checked  himself.  Then  turning  slowly,  wearily, 
he  sank  into  the  chair  before  his  desk.  For  a  few 
moments  he  fumbled  aimlessly  over  the  papers  and 
documents,  then  from  his  pocket  took  a  flat  leather 
case  and,  opening  it,  held  in  his  hand  a  portrait  of 
the  engineer's  mother.  As  he  looked  at  the  face  of 
the  woman  who  had  never  ceased  to  hold  the  first 
place  in  his  heart,  his  lips  framed  words  he  could  not 
speak  aloud. 

Slowly  his  form  drooped,  his  head  bowed.  Then, 
with  the  picture  held  close,  he  buried  his  face  in  his 
arms  among  the  business  papers  on  his  desk. 


489 


CHAPTER  XXXYI. 
OUT  OF  THE  HOLLOW  OF  GOD'S  HAND. 

|  HE  first  train  from  Republic  to  Barba  over 
the  new  King's  Basin  Central  arrived  in  the 
town  by  the  old  Dry  River  Crossing  shortly 
after  noon.  Later  in  the  day  Jefferson  Worth  with 
his  daughter,  his  superintendent  and  the  Seer  went 
to  the  power  plant  on  the  bank  of  Dry  River. 

When  the  plant  was  built  it  was  placed  as  low  in 
the  old  wash  as  the  depth  of  the  ancient  channel 
would  permit,  so  that  the  greatest  possible  fall  from 
the  Company  canal  above  might  be  secured.  As 
Jefferson  Worth  and  his  companions  stood  now  on 
the  bank  of  the  river  they  saw  the  waste-way  from 
the  turbine  wheel  that  ran  the  generators  nearly 
thirty  feet  above  the  bottom  of  the  channel.  The 
flood  that  had  cut  the  deep  canyons  through  the  heart 
of  the  Basin,  destroying  Kingston  on  its  course,  had 
worked  on  a  smaller  scale  in  the  old  Dry  River  wash, 
cutting  a  narrow  gorge  nearly  fifty  feet  deep  from 
its  outlet  at  the  new  sea  past  the  power  plant  at  Barba 
and  nearly  to  the  spillway  of  the  main  canal. 

Standing  almost  on  the  very  spot  where  they  had 
found  the  baby  girl  years  before,  the  Seer  asked 
Barbara's  father:  "Jeff,  does  your  contract  with 
The  King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company  call 
for  a  certain  amount  of  water,  or  for  water  to 
develop  a  certain  amount  of  power  ?" 

490 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WORTH 

Jefferson  Worth  answered  in  his  careful,  exact 
voice :  "The  first  contract  called  for  water  to  develop 
a  certain  amount  of  power.  This  new  one  is  a  con 
tract  for  three  hundred  inches  of  water.  There's 
nothing  in  it  about  the  amount  of  power,  but  it  gives 
me  the  sole  rights  to  all  the  power  privileges  on  the 
Company  property.  You  see,  when  Greenfield  tried 
to  change  the  line  of  their  canal  so  as  to  cut  me  out, 
Abe  and  I  had  begun  to  figure  that  some  day  the  water 
from  the  spillway  might  cut  down  the  channel  and 
give  us  a  little  more  drop.  But  we  never  counted  on 
this,  of  course.  I  simply  figured  that  I  might  just 
as  well  make  the  new  contract  safe." 

The  Seer  smiled.  "You  made  it  safe  all  right, 
Jeff.  Do  you  know  what  this  cut  means  to  you  ?" 

"In  a  way,  yes.  That's  why  I  wanted  you  to  look 
at  it." 

"It  means,"  said  the  Seer,  "that  you  have  rights 
here  worth  a  million  dollars  at  least.  By  lowering 
your  turbine  to  the  bottom  of  this  cut  you  can,  with 
the  same  amount  of  water  that  you  are  now  using, 
develop  power  enough  to  run  every  electric  light 
system  and  turn  every  wheel  in  all  The  King's  Basin 
for  years  to  come." 

"You  mean  that  the  river  breaking  in  and  doing 
this  has  made  daddy's  property  worth  a  million 
dollars  ?"  asked  Barbara  breathlessly. 

The  Seer  turned  toward  her.  "Yes,  Barbara.  The 
same  force  that  destroyed  Kingston  and  wrecked  the 
Company  has  increased  the  value  of  your  father's 
holding  to  fully  that  amount.  A  million  is  very  con 
servative." 

491 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

The  young  woman  looked  down  into  the  gorge  at 
their  feet.  Slowly  she  said :  "The  Indians  must  be 
right.  This  must  be  indeed  La  Palma  de  la  Mano 
de  Dios.  Such  things  could  happen  nowhere  else." 

She  had  just  finished  speaking  when  the  sound  of 
wheels  behind  caused  them  to  turn  toward  the  desert 
and  the  old  San  Felipe  trail.  It  was  Texas  and  Pat 
in  the  buckboard  with  El  Capitan  leading  behind. 

Catching  sight  of  the  group  on  the  river  bank,  the 
men  turned  aside  from  the  road  and  went  to  them. 
"Howdy  folks,"  drawled  Tex.  "We  'lowed  we'd  jest 
about  meet  up  with  you-all  somewhere  about  here." 

"Sure,  'tis  a  family  reunion  we  do  be  havin',  wid 
no  empthy  chairs  at  all,"  declared  the  Irishman, 
looking  from  face  to  face  with  twinkling  eyes.  "Well, 
well,  who'd  a  thought  now  that  the  little  kid  we  found 
under  the  bank  here,  sheared  av  the  coyotes  an'  more 
sheared  av  us  rough-necks,  wud  av  growed  up  like 
this  ?  An'  wid  me  a  shwearin'  by  all  the  saints  I 
knew  that  I  wud  niver  set  fut  on  the  disert  again. 
Here  we  are  once  more  altogether,  wid  Barbara  anr 
Abe  bigger  than  life.  'Tis  the  danged  owld  disert 
itsilf  that's  a-lavin'  niver  to  come  back  at  all."  He 
drew  the  back  of  his  huge  hairy  hand  across  his  eyes. 

Barbara's  eyes  too  were  wet,  and  the  others  turned 
away  their  faces.  Pat's  words  had  recalled  so  vividly 
the  scene  at  the  dry  water  hole  with  the  changes  that 
the  years  had  brought  both  to  them  and  to  the  desert. 

It  was  Texas  Joe  who  broke  the  silence.  "Mr. 
Worth,  Pat  and  I  would  like  to  see  you  some  time 
this  evenin'  if  you  ain't  engaged." 

"What  is  it,  Tex?"    As  he  spoke  Jefferson  Worth 

492 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

looked  straight  into  the  eyes  of  the  old  plainsman. 
Texas  Joe,  gazing  steadily  into  the  face  of  his 
employer,  drawled  easily:  "Jest  a  little  matter  we 
'lowed  maybe  you'd  like  to  know  about,  sir  What 
time  shall  we  come  ?" 

Something — the  memories  of  the  place,  perhaps, 
aroused  by  the  words  of  Pat  a  moment  before — 
caused  Jefferson  Worth  to  lift  those  nervous  fingers 
and  softly  caress  his  chin.  "I  guess  I  can  go  now* 
We're  all  through  here."  He  turned  to  the  others. 
"I'll  go  on  to  the  hotel  with  Tex  and  Pat  and  you 
folks  can  come  along  later  when  you  are  ready." 

He  stepped  into  the  buckboard  and  with  the  two 
drove  away.  At  a  livery  barn  where  they  stopped  to 
leave  the  horses,  Texas  took  from  under  the  seat  of 
the  buckboard  something  that  was  wrapped  in  a  sack 
that  had  held  a  feed  of  grain  for  the  team  and  El 
Capitan. 

When  they  had  reached  the  privacy  of  Mr.  Worth's 
room,  the  old  plainsman  and  the  Irishman  stood  as  if 
each  waited  for  the  other  to  begin. 

"Well,  men,"  said  Jefferson  Worth.   "What  is  it  ?" 

"Go  on,  ye  owld  oysther,"  growled  Pat  to  Tex. 
"Why  the  hell  don't  ye  tell  the  boss  what  we've  come 
to  tell  him.  Shpake  up." 

Texas  Joe  cleared  his  throat  and  began  formally: 
"I  don't  reckon,  Mr.  Worth,  that  you-all  has  forgot 
that  outfit  we  left  in  them  sand  hills  back  yonder  on 
the  old  San  Felipe  trail  the  time  we  found  the  kid." 

At  the  words  Jefferson  Worth's  face  became  a 
gray  mask  from  behind  which  his  mind  reached  out 
as  though  to  grasp  what  Texas  would  say  before  the 

403 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

man  put  it  into  words.  "Well?"  The  single  word 
came  with  the  colorless  sound  of  dull  metal. 

"Also  I  reckon  you  know  how  them  big  drifts  are 
allus  on  the  move,  so  that  when  they  covers  up  any 
thing,  say  an  outfit  like  that  one,  it  stands  to  reason 
that  some  day  they'll  drift  on  an'  leave  it  clear 
again." 

Jefferson  Worth's  hands  were  gripping  the  arms  of 
his  chair.  His  gray  lips  could  frame  no  sound. 

"I've  allus  kind  a-kept  an  eye  on  that  there  par 
ticular  ridge,"  continued  Texas,  "an'  so  to-day  me 
and  Pat  stopped  for  a  little  look  around  an'  " — slowly 
he  unwrapped  the  grain  sack  from  a  long  tin  box — 
"an'  we  found  this."  He  laid  the  box  carefully  on 
the  table  before  Barbara's  father.  "Hit  was  a-layinr 
with  what  was  left  of  a  bigger  wooden  box  or  trunk, 
which  same  had  gone  to  pieces,  and  there  was  a  part 
of  that  old  wagon  with  that  same  piece  of  a  halter- 
strap  you  remember  fastened  to  a  wheel.  There  ain't 
no  sort  of  doubt,  Mr.  Worth,  that  hit's  the  same  outfit 
an'  hits  mighty  likely  that  there's  papers  in  here 
that'll  tell  us  what  we  tried  so  hard  to  find  out  at 
first,  but  what" — he  paused  and  looked  around,  then 
finished  in  a  low  tone — "I  don't  reckon  any  of  us 
wants  to  know  now." 

Jefferson  Worth  sat  motionless  in  his  chair,  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  tin  box. 

The  heavy  voice  of  the  Irishman  broke  the  quiet. 

"Av  Tex  wud  a  listened  to  raison,  Sorr,  I'd 
a-dumped  the  danged  thing  into  the  river,  sayin' 
nothin'  to  nobody.  Fwhat  good  can  we  do  rakin'  up 
the  past  that's  dead  an'  gone  ?  The  girl  is  as  much 

494 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

yers  as  if  she  was  yer  own  flesh  an'  blood,  an*  who 
can  say  fwhat  divil's  own  mess  may  come  out  av  this 
thing  ?  Lave  it  alone,  I  say ;  an'  fwhat  nobody  don't 
know  can't  hurt  thim.  'Twas  wrong  intirely  to  bring 
ut  to  ye  afther  all  ye've  been  sich  a  father  to  the  little 
one.  Lave  it  to  me,  Sorr.  Give  me  the  word  an'  I'll" 
— he  reached  eagerly  for  the  box,  but  Jefferson  Worth 
held  up  his  slim,  nervous  hand. 

"Wait  a  moment,  Pat.  I — I  don't  think  that 
would  be  right." 

Never  before  had  these  men  seen  Jefferson  Worth 
hesitate.  The  will  of  the  man,  whose  cold  decision 
had  carried  him  through  so  many  critical  situations 
and  upon  which  the  pioneers  had  relied  in  the  recent 
time  of  peril,  seemed  to  fail  him  at  last.  The  spec 
tacle  told  the  men  more  clearly  than  words  could 
have  done  what  he  suffered.  "I — I  don't  know  what 
to  do,"  he  finished  weakly.  "Give  me  time.  Let  me 
think."  He  bowed  his  face  in  his  hands. 

Pat  growled  an  oath  under  his  breath  and  Texas 
turned  his  eyes  from  his  companions  to  the  box  and 
from  the  box  back  to  his  friends  in  bewildered  uncer 
tainty.  At  last  he  said  in  his  soft  southern  drawl: 
"Mr.  Worth,  hit's  dead  sure  that  me  an'  Pat  ain't 
helpin'  you  none  in  this.  I  reckon  I  was  all  wrong 
to  bring  hit  to  you  at  all.  But  hit  seemed  like  I  was 
plumb  balled  up  an'  couldn't  rightly  say  what  was 
best.  There  ain't  really  no  call  to  crowd  this  thing 
as  I  can  see.  Suppose  you  takes  your  time  to  think 
it  over.  Me  an'  Pat'll  let  you  alone,  an'  if  you  decides 
to  fergit  all  about  hit,  you  can  bet  your  last  red  we'll 
be  damn  glad  to  help.  Nobody  but  us  three  will  ever 

495 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBAKA  WORTH 

know.  Tain't  as  if  it  was  a-doin'  anybody  any 
harm." 

Jefferson  Worth  raised  his  head.  "Thank  you 
boys,"  he  said.  "I'll  have  to  figure  on  this  thing  a 
little." 

Left  alone,  Jefferson  Worth  faced  the  temptation 
of  his  life.  Dearer  to  this  lonely-hearted  man  than 
all  the  wealth  and  power  that  he  would  realize  from 
his  King's  Basin  work  was  the  child  who  had  come 
to  him  out  of  the  desert.  The  man  knew  that  it  was 
the  influence  of  Barbara  upon  his  life  that  had  pre 
pared  him  for  that  night  in  the  sand  hills  and 
enabled  him  rightly  to  weigh  and  measure  and  value 
the  efforts  of  his  kind.  That  afternoon  at  the  power 
house  it  had  all  been  brought  before  him  with  start 
ling  vividness.  He  felt  that  in  all  that  he  had  accom 
plished  in  Barbara's  Desert  he  had  been  led  by  the 
child,  who  had  come  to  him  out  of  The  Hollow  of 
God's  Hand.  The  desert  had  given  her  to  him;  he 
had  given  himself  in  return  to  the  work  she  loved. 
He  could  not  think  of  his  work  apart  from  her.  She 
was  his — his — his.  His  gray  lips  whispered  the 
words  as  he  stood  looking  down  at  the  box.  No  one 
had  the  right  to  take  her  from  him ;  to  come  into  her 
life.  And  yet — and  yet.  He  reached  out  and  laid 
his  hand  upon  the  box,  then,  turning  again,  paced 
the  room. 

Suddenly  he  whirled  about  and  approached  the 
table.  With  cold  fury  he  seized  the  box  and  placing 
it  upon  the  floor,  broke  the  light  tin  fastening  with 
his  boot-heel.  Again  he  paused  and  looked  dully  at 
the  thing  in  his  hands.  Then  with  a  quick  motion 

496 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

lie  threw  up  the  cover.  The  box  was  filled  with  docu 
ments  and  letters,  with  four  or  five  old  photographs. 

The  address  on  a  large  unsealed  envelope  met  his 
eye  and  he  started  back  with  a  low  cry  as  though  he 
had  looked  upon  some  startling  apparition. 

When  Barbara  with  the  Seer  and  Abe  returned  to 
the  hotel  that  evening  the  clerk  gave  her  a  note  from 
her  father  who,  the  note  explained,  had  been  called' 
to  Republic  on  business  of  importance.  He  would 
be  back  to-morrow. 

The  clerk  said  that  Mr.  Worth  had  left  only  a  few 
minutes  before  with  the  engine  and  car  that  had 
brought  them  to  Barba  that  morning. 


497 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
BACK  TO  THE  OLD  SAN  FELIPE  TRAIL. 

\"N  the  office  of  The  King's  Basin  Land  and 
Irrigation  Company,  James  Greenfield  was 
aroused  by  a  knock  at  the  door.  He  lifted 
his  head  from  his  arms  and  looked  around  as  if 
awakened  out  of  a  deep  sleep. 

Another  knock,  and  he  slipped  the  picture  he  held 
in  his  hand  into  his  pocket  and  called,  "Come  in." 

The  door  opened  and  Jefferson  Worth  stepped  into 
the  room. 

For  a  moment  the  president  of  the  wrecked  Com 
pany  sat  staring  at  his  business  rival,  then  he  leaped 
to  his  feet,  his  fists  clenched  and  his  face  working 
with  passion.  "You  can't  come  in  here,  sir.  Get 
out!'7  he  said  with  the  voice  and  manner  he  would 
have  assumed  in  speaking  to  a  trespassing  dog. 

Jefferson  Worth  stood  still.  "I  have  business  of 
importance  with  you,  Mr.  Greenfield,"  he  said,  and 
his  air  of  quiet  dignity  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
rage  of  the  larger  man. 

"You  can  have  no  business  with  me  of  any  sort 
whatever.  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  your  kind. 
This  is  my  private  office.  I  tell  you  to  get  out." 

Jefferson  Worth  turned  calmly  as  though  to  obey, 
but  instead  of  leaving  the  room  closed  the  door  and 
locked  it.  Then,  placing  the  small  grip  he  carried 

498 


THE  WINDING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

upon  the  table,  he  deliberately  went  close  to  the 
threatening  president  and  said  coldly:  "This  is  rank 
nonsense,  Greenfield.  I  won't  leave  this  office  until 
I'm  through  with  what  I  came  to  do.  I  have  business 
with  you  that  concerns  you  as  much  as  it  does  me." 

"You're  a  damned  thief,  a  low  sharper !  I  tell  you 
I  have  nothing  to  do  with  you.  Now  get  out  or  I'll 
throw  you  out!" 

Jefferson  Worth  answered  in  his  exact,  precise 
manner,  as  though  carefully  choosing  and  considering 
his  words:  "No,  you  won't  throw  me  out.  You'll 
listen  to  what  I  have  come  to  tell  you.  The  rest  of 
your  statement,  Greenfield,  is  false  and  you  know  it. 
It  will  be  just  as  well  for  you  not  to  repeat  it."  The 
last  low-spoken  words  did  not  appear  to  be  uttered  as 
a  threat  but  as  a  calm  statement  of  a  carefully  con 
sidered  fact.  James  Greenfield  felt  as  a  man  who 
permits  himself  to  rage  against  an  immovable 
obstacle — as  one  who  spends  his  strength  cursing  a 
stone  wall  that  bars  his  way  or  a  rock  that  lies  in  his 
path.  With  an  effort  he  regained  a  measure  of  his 
self-control. 

"Well,  out  with  it.    What  do  you  want  ?" 

"Sit  down,"  said  Worth,  pointing  to  a  chair. 
Mechanically  the  other  obeyed.  "You  have  no  reason 
for  taking  this  attitude  toward  me,  Mr.  Greenfield," 
began  Worth  with  his  air  of  simply  stating  a  fact. 

At  his  words  the  wrath  of  the  other  again  mastered 
him.  "~No  reason !  You — you  dare  to  tell  me  that  ? 
When  you  and  the  young  woman  that  you  call  your 
daughter  have  come  between  me  and  the  boy  who  is 
more  than  a  son  to  me !  When  you  have  broken  our 

499 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WOETH 

close  relationship  of  years'  standing  and  robbed  me 
of  his  companionship !  When  you  have  wrecked  and 
ruined  all  my  plans  for  his  future !  When  you  have 
defeated  the  object  of  my  life!  No  reason?  But 
what  can  you  understand  of  us?  You're  a  nobody, 
sir,  without  a  place  or  a  name  in  the  world ;  a  com 
mon,  low-bred,  ignorant  sharper  with  no  family  but  a 
nameless  daughter  of  unknown  parentage  whom  you 
found  on  the  desert.  How  can  you  understand  what 
Willard  Holmes  is  to  me  ?" 

"I  figured  that  you  would  feel  this  way  about  it," 
came  the  colorless  words.  "That's  what  I  came  here 
for  to-night — to  fix  it  up." 

The  angry  amazement  of  Greenfield  at  what  he 
considered  the  man's  presumption  could  find  no 
expression. 

Worth  continued:  "I  know  a  great  deal  more 
about  you  and  your  folks  than  you  think.  When  I 
saw  that  my" — he  hesitated  over  the  word,  then 
spoke  it  plainly — "my  daughter  was  becoming  inter 
ested  in  Willard  Holmes,  I  took  some  pains  to  look 
up  his  history.  In  doing  that  I  naturally  found  out 
a  good  deal  about  you.  Later  I  learned  a  good  deal 


more." 


"It  is  immaterial  to  me  what  you  know,"  muttered 
the  other  in  a  tone  of  deep  disgust.  "What  do  you 
want  ?" 

Worth  spoke  with  quiet  dignity.  "I  want  you  to 
understand  first,  Mr.  Greenfield,  that  my  girl  is  just 
as  much  to  me  as  young  Holmes  is  to  you.  You  are 
right ;  I  am  a  nobody,  ignorant  and  all  that,  but  you 
must  not  think  Mr.  Greenfield  that  because  you 

500 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

belong  in  'New  York  and  I  belong  in  the  West  that 
this  thing  is  harder  for  you  than  it  is  for  me.  You 
are  not  going  to  lose  your  boy  but  I" — for  the  first 
time  he  hesitated  and  his  voice  expressed  emotion — 
"I  am  going  to  lose  my  girl." 

The  pathos  of  this  lonely  man's  words  touched  even 
Greenfield.  His  manner  was  more  gentle  as  he  said 
gruffly :  "It's  a  bad  business,  Mr.  Worth ;  a  damned 
bad  business  for  both  of  us.  I  wish  I  had  never 
heard  of  this  country." 

" You'll  feel  different  about  that.  Anyway  I  figure 
that  this  country  and  this  work  will  be  here  long 
after  you  and  I  are  gone,  and  so  will  these  young 
people."  Again  he  hesitated  and  his  slim  fingers 
caressed  his  chin.  Then  from  behind  that  gray  mask 
he  asked :  "How  much  do  you  know  about  our  find 
ing  Barbara  in  the  desert?" 

"I  know  the  story  in  a  general  way,  that's  all.  It 
does  not  interest  me." 

"Let  me  tell  you  the  facts." 

In  his  brief,  colorless  sentences  Jefferson  Worth 
related  the  incidents  of  that  trip  across  the  desert, 
and  as  he  did  so  Greenfield  began  to  realize  that  some 
powerful  motive  had  brought  this  man  to  him  and 
was  forcing  him  to  relate  his  story  with  such  exact 
care  for  the  details. 

"And  you  never  found  the  slightest  clue  even  to 
the  child's  name?"  he  asked,  when  Worth  had  fin 
ished. 

Jefferson  Worth  hesitated,  then :  "Mr.  Greenfield, 
you  had  a  younger  brother  who  came  West  ?" 

The  man  gazed  at  the  speaker  in  amazement  as  he 

501 


THE  WIPING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

answered  mechanically.  "Yes.  He  died  out  here 
somewhere — in  California,  I  believe.  I  was  never 
able  to  learn  the  details.  He  was  an  adventurous  lad 
and  a  good  deal  of  a  rover.  But  why — how — "  As 
the  full  import  of  the  question  dawned  upon  him 
Greenfield  started  from  his  seat.  "My  God,  man! 
You  don't  mean — you  cannot  mean  that  it  was  my 
brother  Will  who  was  lost  in  that  sandstorm  on  the 
desert?  That  the  woman  you  found  by  the  water 
hole  was  his  wife,  Gertrude,  and  that — that — "  His 
voice  sank  to  a  whisper.  "Will  wrote  me  that  there 
was  a  child — that  she  had  Gertrude's  hair  and  eyes. 
I  had  never  seen  her."  He  turned  fiercely  upon  his 
companion.  "And  you  have  kept  this  from  me  all 
these  years  ?  You  have  kept  my  only  brother's  child 
from  me?  By  God,  sir!  I —  But  perhaps  this  is 
all  one  of  your  damnable  tricks.  What  proof  have 
you  that  this  is  so,  and  if  it  is,  why  have  you  kept 
it  a  secret  ?" 

Jefferson  Worth  opened  his  satchel  and  laid  the 
tin  box  on  the  desk  before  the  president  of  The 
King's  Basin  Land  and  Irrigation  Company.  "This 
box  was  found  this  afternoon  by  Texas  Joe  and  Pat, 
who  brought  it  to  me.  I  opened  it.  It  is  all  here." 

When  Greenfield  had  examined  the  contents  of  the 
box — letters,  some  of  them  written  by  himself  to  his 
brother,  papers  relating  to  William  Greenfield's  busi 
ness  affairs  and  property,  and  photographs  of  the 
little  family  and  of  the  two  brothers  and  their 
parents,  he  looked  up  to  see  Jefferson  Worth  sitting 
motionless,  his  form  relaxed,  his  head  dropped  for 
ward. 

502 


Without  a  word  —  for  no  word  was  needed  —  their  hands  met  in  a  firm  grip 


THE  WINKING  OP  BARBARA  WOKTH 

Suddenly  the  words  of  the  man  who  had  been  a 
father  to  his  brother's  child  came  back  to  Greenfield. 
"My  girl  is  just  as  much  to  me  as  young  Holmes  is 
to  you.  You  are  not  going  to  lose  your  boy,  but  I 
am  going  to  lose  my  girl."  In  a  flash  the  financier 
saw  it  all — saw  how  Jefferson  Worth  loved  Barbara 
as  his  own  child,  as  Greenfield  cared  for  Willard 
Holmes;  saw  how  Worth  might  have  destroyed  the 
papers  so  strangely  brought  to  light  and  kept  the 
secret;  saw  and  realized  a  little  what  strength  of 
character  it  had  taken  to  overcome  the  temptation, 
and  felt  what  the  man  was  suffering. 

As  Greenfield's  hand  fell  on  his  shoulder,  Jefferson 
Worth  slowly  lifted  his  head.  Slowly  he  rose  to  his 
feet.  In  silence  the  two  men  faced  each  other.  With 
out  a  word — for  no  word  was  needed — their  hands 
met  in  a  firm  grip. 

After  a  little  while  Greenfield  asked  eagerly: 
"Where  is  she  now,  Mr.  Worth?  Where  is  the  girl? 
Does  she  know?  I  must  see  her  at  once.  Come! 
And  Willard — I  wonder  if  he  is  still  in  town.  Come, 
we  must  go  to  them." 

But  Jefferson  Worth  answered :  "I've  been  figur 
ing  on  that,  Mr.  Greenfield.  You  had  better  let  me 
tell  Barbara  myself.  And  if  I  was  you,  after  what 
you  have  probably  said  to  Holmes  on  this  subject,  I 
wouldn't  be  in  a  hurry  to  tell  him.  For  the  sake  of 
their  future  we'd  better  let  Barbara  handle  that  mat 
ter  herself.  You  can  easily  figure  it  out  that  it  will 
be  best  for  them  that  way." 


503 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 
THE  HERITAGE  OF  BARBARA  WORTH. 

ARBARA,  walking  quickly,  left  the  little 
village  and,  crossing  Dry  River  on  the  bridge 
that  now  spanned  the  deep  gorge  where  the 
old  San  Felipe  trail  once  led  down  into  the  ancient 
wash,  climbed  the  slight  grade  to  the  grave  that  was 
marked  by  the  simple  headstone  with  its  one  word — 
"Mother." 

That  morning  Jefferson  Worth  had  told  her  of  the 
tin  box  found  by  Texas  Joe  and  Pat.  With  reverent 
care  she  had  read  the  papers  and  letters  and  had 
looked  long  at  the  portraits  of  her  parents  and  people. 
She  could  not  at  first  realize  that  the  desert  had  at 
last  given  up  the  secret  that  she  had  so  longed  to 
know.  It  was  not  real  to  her,  the  revelation  was  so 
sudden,  so  startling.  She  could  not  think  of  herself 
save  as  the  daughter  of  Jefferson  Worth,  whom  she 
loved  as  a  father. 

As  soon  as  the  noon  day  meal  was  over  she  had 
left  her  room  in  the  hotel,  and  once  out  of  doors  her 
steps  had  instinctively  turned  toward  her  mother's 
grave  beside  the  old  trail. 

Standing  before  the  headstone  she  looked  at  the 
one  word.  "Mother,"  she  said  softly.  "Mother!" 
Then,  still  in  a  whisper,  she  repeated  the  unfamiliar 
names :  "Gertrude  Greenfield ;  William  Greenfield 

504 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

— my  mother ;  my  father !  I  am  Barbara  Greenfield 
— Barbara  Greenfield!" 

Seating  herself  on  the  ground  beside  the  grave,  she 
looked  about :  at  the  sand  hills  in  the  distance ;  at  the 
Dry  River  gorge  and  the  power  plant ;  at  the  canals 
shining  like  silver  bands  among  the  green  fields  of 
the  ranchers  to  the  southeast ;  and  at  the  little  town. 
An  hour  passed ;  then  another ;  and  another. 

Across  the  river  she  saw  Pablo  riding  out  of  the 
town  and  away  along  the  road  that  follows  the  canal. 
Then  from  the  power  house  came  Abe  Lee  with  the 
Seer.  She  watched  them  as  they  walked  along  the 
bank  of  the  old  channel.  Once  she  thought  she  would 
call  to  them,  but  hesitated.  If  they  crossed  the  bridge 
and  came  up  the  hill  they  would  be  sure  to  see  her. 
So  she  waited,  keeping  still.  They  passed  the  bridge 
and  continued  on  down  the  bank  of  the  stream. 

Barbara  knew  instinctively  that  they  were  talking 
of  her  and  the  secret  that  the  desert  had  at  last 
revealed,  for  she  had  asked  her  father  to  tell  them. 
She  thought  of  her  father  who  had  gone  to  Republic. 
He  would  return  that  evening  and  Mr.  Greenfield, 
her  uncle,  would  be  with  him.  "Her  uncle" — how 
strange ! 

Then  Barbara  saw  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  a 
horseman  riding  from  the  south  toward  the  town. 
She  could  not  mistake  the  khaki-clad  figure  that, 
while  fully  at  home  in  the  saddle,  still  lacked  the 
indescribable,  easy  looseness  and  swinging  grace  of 
the  western  rider.  It  was  Willard  Holmes,  and  the 
young  woman's  heart  told  her  why  the  engineer  had 
come.  Since  that  meeting  at  the  river  in  the  hour 

505 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

of  his  victory  she  had  known  that  he  would  come  and 
she  had  known  what  her  answer  would  be. 

He  had  evidently  ridden  from  the  river,  from  his 
work.  Did  he  know  ?  No,  she  decided,  he  could  not 
know  yet.  Then  the  quick  thought  came:  he  must 
not  know  until — until  she  herself  should  tell  him. 
Quickly  the  young  woman  walked  down  the  hill 
across  the  bridge  toward  the  town. 

Willard  Holmes  arrived  at  the  hotel  and,  learning 
that  Miss  Worth  was  out,  carried  a  chair  to  the 
arcade  on  the  street  to  await  her  return.  He  had  not 
waited  long  when  a  voice  at  his  shoulder  said  with 
mock  formality:  "I  believe  this  is  Mr.  Willard 
Holmes." 

The  engineer  sprang  to  his  feet.  "Miss  Worth! 
They  told  me  that  you  were  out.  I  was  sitting  here 
waiting  for  you." 

"I  was  out  when  you  arrived,"  she  confessed ;  "but 
I  saw  you  coming  and  hurried  back  pronto.  I  knew 
you  had  just  left  the  river,  you  see.  And  of  course," 
she  added,  as  though  that  explained  her  eagerness  to 
see  him,  "I  wanted  to  hear  the  latest  news  from  the 
work." 

"There  is  no  news,"  he  answered,  as  though  dis 
missing  the  matter  finally. 

"And  may  I  ask  what  brings  you  to  Barba  ?" 

He  looked  at  her  steadily.  "You  brought  me  to 
Barba." 

"I  ?" 

"Yes — you.  I  stopped  in  Republic  on  my  way 
back  from  the  city  the  evening  of  the  day  you  left. 
I  was  forced  to  go  on  to  the  river,  but  took  the  first 

506 


THE  WINKING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

opportunity  to  ride  out  here,  for  I  understood  you 
expected  to  be  in  Barba  several  days.  Surely  you 
know  why  I  have  come.  The  work  I  stayed  in  the 
Basin  to  do  is  finished.  I  have  another  offer  from 
the  S.  &  C.  which,  if  I  accept,  will  keep  me  here  for 
several  years.  I  have  come  to  you  with  it  as  I  came 
with  the  other.  What  shall  I  do  ?  Please  don't  pre 
tend  that  you  don't  understand  me." 

The  direct  forcefulness  of  the  man  almost  made 
Barbara  forget  the  little  plan  she  had  arranged  on 
her  way  to  the  hotel  to  meet  him.  "I  won't  pretend, 
Mr.  Holmes,"  she  answered  seriously.  "But — will 
you  go  with  me  for  a  little  ride  into  the  desert  ?" 

Her  words  recalled  to  his  mind  instantly  their  first 
meeting  in  Rubio  City,  but  Holmes  was  not  aston 
ished  now.  The  invitation  coming  from  Barbara 
under  the  circumstances  seemed  the  most  natural 
thing  in  the  world. 

The  young  woman  went  to  her  room  to  make  ready 
while  the  engineer  brought  the  horses,  and  in  a  very 
few  minutes  they  had  crossed  the  river  and  were 
following  the  old  San  Felipe  trail  toward  the  sand 
hills. 

Very  few  words  passed  between  them  until  they 
reached  the  great  drift  that  had  held  so  long  its  secret. 
Leaving  the  horses  at  Barbara's  request,  they  climbed 
the  steep  sides  of  the  great  sand  mound.  From  the 
top  they  could  see  on  every  hand  the  many  miles  of 
The  King's  Basin  country — from  Lone  Mountain  at 
the  end  of  the  delta  dam  to  the  snow-capped  sentinels 
of  San  Antonio  Pass;  and  from  the  sky  line  of  the 
Mesa  and  the  low  hills  on  the  east  to  No  Man's 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAEA  WOETH 

Mountains  and  the  bold  wall  of  the  Coast  Eange  that 
shuts  out  the  beautiful  country  on  the  west. 

The  soft,  many-colored  veils  and  scarfs  of  the 
desert,  with  the  gold  of  the  sand  hills,  the  purple  of 
the  mountains,  the  gray  and  green  of  the  desert 
vegetation,  with  the  ragged  patches  of  dun  plain, 
were  all  there  still  as  when  Willard  Holmes  had 
first  looked  upon  it,  for  the  work  of  Eeclamation 
was  still  far  from  finished. 

But  there  was  more  in  Barbara's  Desert  now  than 
pictures  woven  magically  in  the  air.  There  were 
beautiful  scenes  of  farms  with  houses  and  barns  and 
fences  and  stacks,  with  cattle  and  horses  in  the  pas 
tures,  and  fields  of  growing  grain,  the  dark  green  of 
alfalfa,  with  threads  and  lines  and  spots  of  water 
that,  under  the  flood  of  white  light  from  the  wide 
sky,  shone  in  the  distance  like  gleaming  silver.  Bar 
bara  and  the  engineer  could  even  distinguish  the  little 
towns  of  Eepublic  and  Frontera,  with  Barba  nearby ; 
and  even  as  they  looked  they  marked  the  tall  column 
of  smoke  from  a  locomotive  on  the  S.  &  0.  moving 
toward  the  crossing  of  the  old  San  Felipe  trail,  and 
on  the  King's  Basin  Central  another,  coming  toward 
the  town  on  Dry  Eiver  where  once  beside  a  dry  water 
hole  a  woman  lay  dead  with  an  empty  canteen  by  her 
side. 

Willard  Holmes  drew  a  long  breath. 

"You  like  my  Desert?"  asked  the  young  woman 
softly,  coming  closer  to  his  side — so  close  that  he 
felt  her  presence  as  clearly  as  he  felt  the  presence 
of  the  spirit  that  lives  in  the  desert  itself. 


508 


THE  WINNING  OF  BARBARA  WORTH 

"Like  it!"  he  repeated,  turning  toward  her.  "It 
is  my  desert  now;  mine  as  well  as  yours.  Oh,  Bar 
bara!  Barbara!  I  have  learned  the  language  of 
your  land.  Must  I  leave  it  now  ?  Won't  you  tell 
me  to  stay  ?" 

He  held  out  his  hands  to  her,  but  she  drew  back  a 
little  from  his  eagerness.  "Wait.  I  must  know 
something  first  before  I  can  answer." 

He  looked  at  her  questioningly.  "What  must  you 
know,  Barbara?" 

"Did  you  ever  hear  the  story  of  what  happened 
here  in  these  very  sand  hills  ?  Do  you  know  that  I 
am  not  the  daughter  of  Jefferson  Worth  ?" 

"Yes,"  he  answered  gravely.  "I  know  that  Mr. 
Worth  is  not  your  own  father,  but  I  did  not  know 
that  this  was  the  scene  of  the  tragedy." 

"And  you  understand  that  I  am  nameless;  that 
no  one  knows  my  parentage?  That  there  may  even 
be  Mexican  or  Indian  blood  in  my  veins?  You 
understand — you  realize  all  that?" 

He  started  toward  her  almost  roughly.  "Yes,  I 
understand  all  that,  but  I  care  only  that  you  are 
Barbara.  I  know  only  that  I  want  you — you, 
Barbara!" 

"But  your  family — Mr.  Greenfield — your  friends 
back  home — think  what  it  means  to  them.  Can  you 
afford—" 

"Barbara."  he  cried.  "Stop !  Why  are  you  saying 
these  things  ?  Listen  to  me.  Don't  you  know  that  I 
love  you?  Don't  you  know  that  nothing  else  mat 
ters?  Your  Desert  has  taught  me  many  things, 
dear,  but  nothing  so  great  as  this — that  I  want  you 

509 


THE  WINNING  OF  BAEBAKA  WORTH 

and  that  nothing  else  matters.  I  want  you  for  my 
wife." 

"But  you  said  once  that  you  would  never  marry 
me"  persisted  the  young  woman.  "What  has  changed 
you?" 

"I  said  that  I  would  never  marry  you?  I  said 
that  ?  That  cannot  be,  Barbara ;  you  are  mistaken." 

She  shook  her  head.  "That  is  what  you  said.  I 
heard  you  myself.  You  told  Mr.  Greenfield  at  my 
house  that  morning  he  came  to  see  you  when  you  were 
hurt.  I — I — the  door  into  the  dining  room  was 
open  and  I  heard." 

The  light  of  quick  understanding  broke  over  the 
engineer's  face.  "And  you  heard  what  Uncle  Jim 
said  to  me  ?  But  Barbara,  didn't  you  hear  the  reason 
I  gave  him  for  saying  that  I  would  not  marry  you  ?" 

"I — I  couldn't  hear  anything  after  that,"  she  said 
simply. 

At  her  confession  the  man's  strong  face  shone  with 
triumph.  "Listen,  dear,  I  told  Uncle  Jim  I  would 
never  marry  you  because  you  loved  someone  else  and 
that  there  was  no  chance  for  me." 

Barbara's  brown  eyes  opened  wide.  "You  thought 
that?" 

"Yes.    I  thought  you  loved  Abe  Lee." 

"Why— why  I  do  love  Abe." 

The  man  laughed.  "Of  course  you  do;  but  I 
thought  you  loved  him  as  I  wanted  you  to  love  me ; 
don't  you  understand  ?" 

"Oh-h!"  The  exclamation  was  a  confession,  an 
explanation  and  an  expression  of  complete  under- 


510 


THE  WINDING  OF  BAKBAKA  WOKTH 

standing.  "But  that" — she  added  as  she  went  to 
him — "that  could  not  be." 

And  then — 

But  Barbara's  words,  rightly  understood,  mark  the 
end  of  my  story. 

Rarely  is  it  given  in  the  story  of  life,  to  those  who 
work  greatly  or  love  greatly,  to  gather  the  fruit  of 
their  toil  or  passion.  But  it  is  given  those  others, 
perhaps — those  for  whom  it  could  not  be — to  know  a 
happiness  greater,  it  may  be,  than  the  joy  of 
possession. 

THE   EKD. 


511 


Books  by  Harold  Bell  Wright 

Oregon  Journal,  Portland. — "it  is  this  almost  clairvoyant  power 
of  reading  the  human  soul  that  has  made  Mr.  Wright's  books 
among  the  most  remarkable  works  of  the  present  age. " 

That  Printer  of  Udell's 

A  Story  of  Practical  Christianity 

A  Vigorous  Story 

Illustrations  by  JOHN  C.   GILBERT 

Over  300,000  have  been  sold 

The  Shepherd  of  the  Hills 

An  Inspiration  to  the  Simple  Life 

A  Sweet  Story 

Illustrations  by  F.   GRAHAM  COOTES 
Over  700,000  have  been  sold 

The  Calling  of  Dan  Matthews 

The  Ministry  of  Daily  Life 

A  Vital  Story 

Illustrations  by  ARTHUR  I.  KELLER 
Over  500,000  have  been  sold 

The  Winning  of  Barbara  Worth 

The  Ministry  of  Capital 

A  Clean  Story 

Illustrations  by  F.   GRAHAM  COOTES 
First  printing,  175,000  copies 

The   Uncrowned    King 

An  Allegory  of  Life 

Illustrations  by  JOHN  R.   NEILL 

Over  100,000  have  been  sold 


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